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silentprincess17 · 3 years

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The Perils of Swimming

This fic is a collab between me and the wonderfully talented artist @neivaloz on tumblr! Check out her awesome artwork that accompanies this fic! I love how we inspired each other and I look forward to more!

Summary: Link agrees to go swimming with Zelda when she gets her body back. He does not think this through, because there is one major problem: he can't swim.

Read on AO3 here!

Now that the sea in Aboda Village was directly in front of him, with Zelda no longer a ghost and made of flesh and skin, her promise of taking him out to swim actually a reality and not a passing comment at Papuchia Village, Link was beginning to regret the rashness with which he had said yes.

He hadn’t expected her to actually take it seriously. In the throes of the whirlwind adventure, he hadn’t anticipated she would actively remember, let alone take it to heart- it was now... four months since they had reclaimed the Ocean Realm? Which means it was roughly two months since they defeated Malladus. Towards the end, time seemed to fuse together, and life boiled down to essentially overcoming whatever barrier was in their way at the time. First it was restoring the tracks, then obtaining the Compass, followed by the Bow of Light and finally entering the Dark Realm to fight Malladus with the Lokomo Sword strapped to his back. By the time they reached the Compass, Link had more or less lost all notion of time, as Zelda and he grew progressively more panicked with each setback and it became an increasingly hectic race to save her body…

Link had chosen to stick with his engineering, primarily. He still felt he was more of a rookie soldier who only knew how to perform vague attacks that just so happened to work out in his favour, and without Zelda’s help as a Phantom he most certainly would have failed from the get-go. With that in mind, he chose to continue with what he had trained for up until now: to pilot the trains with mechanical engineering as his mainstay. Still, he didn’t want to completely lose what sword skills he had developed, so he regularly stopped at Hyrule Castle to train with Captain Russel and his guards. (The latter was really just an excuse to see Zelda before. Or afterwards. Most of the time it was both.)

And yesterday, Friday night, was one of those times he had gone to training, visiting Zelda before he supposedly went home for the weekend.

What he hadn’t expected was for her to insist on coming with him back to Aboda Village. He would never refuse her anything, and he assumed she might have wanted to meet Alfonso, or Niko, or really just visit his hometown, and he had agreed, staying at the castle that night. Zelda had long since given him a room close to hers, as a “more convenient place to stay” seeing how central the castle was to the rest of Hyrule.

Taking all that together, it was a surprise when she dragged him across to the small beach, where the sun sparkled against the deep blue sea, unclasped her belt that had the small sash attached to it, and pulled her dress off.

He gaped, before hurriedly turning away, “Zel! What are you doing?!”

“Taking my dress off silly, I’ve got my swimsuit underneath! We’re going swimming! I’ve finally, finally, caught up with the paperwork that accumulated whilst we were on our journey, and I finished my lessons in advance this week, for this reason! I know it’s not Papuchia, but there’s always a next time!”

What? Swimming? NEXT TIME?!

Nope, he had to ignore that for now. There was the issue of surviving the first-time round.

Because the idiot that he was, he couldn’t swim!

He lived in what was basically a seaside town, and yet, he couldn’t even paddle in the water, let alone swim.

He would drown as soon as the water reached higher than his neck!

“Link? It’s not too late, is it? I know it’s a little bit later than what I originally intended for when asking you, but there was just so much reordering to do in the Kingdom. Plus, you remember the whole scribing thing we had to undertake; it all took up so much more time than I expected. And then the weather was just awful this past week whenever I had some free time...”

Oh yes, he remembered the scribing. That whole incident had happened a week after their return to the castle, where Link had stayed behind both to physically recover himself from exhaustion and his wounds, and simultaneously help Zelda adjust to the land of the living.

On the first day, she had walked into so many doors and walls he thought she might have concussed herself, she regularly forgot she had to eat, and she didn’t have any fear of heights, despite the fact that falling with a body had pretty serious consequences. Consequently, Link felt honour bound to try to help her to remember she was, in fact, Hylian, and as such susceptible to many perils that she seemed to have forgotten over the course of the long months she spent as a spirit. Plus, she was very cute, and he blushed every time he felt her grip his hand excitedly, or drag his arm towards a bookshelf, or give him impromptu hugs for helping her.

Niko had cornered them after a week, wondering where Link had gotten too. When he found the two of them nibbling on sweet buns from Castle Town, a book on maps wedged firmly on their thighs, Link’s arm resting on the panel just above her shoulders; Niko had pulled a right fit. He had fussed over Link before declaring he would now create a tapestry to commemorate the newest iteration of legendary events. And that had taken the better part of two weeks to complete, and was now referred to as the “scribing” by Zelda and him.

“Link! Are you going to change your clothes or not? That’s the second reason why I didn’t drag you to Papuchia, because I forgot to tell you to pack your trunks.” She paused, “You do have trunks, right?”

No, no he didn’t. He’d just sacrifice an old pair of cargo pants he had. It would be fine. Probably. He made a vague motion towards his house, before deciding to put the Hero’s cap on. It would hopefully hold some of his hair back, and it would bring him luck on this death quest he was about to embark on.

Why?

Why did he put himself through this?

He sighed. He knew the answer.

This was all because he couldn’t say no to her.

He shuffled back into his home, Niko popping up whilst he half-heartedly opened his wardrobe and shuffled around some more. Spirits. He didn’t want to go back out. He didn’t want to admit to Zelda he didn’t know how to swim. Worse still, he didn’t want her to think badly of him for living by a seaside town, and yet, never having learnt such an essential skill.

Niko hobbled across on his cane to Link, peering around the wardrobe door.

“What’s with the long face? I thought you’d be excited, bringing the Princess over. Yes boy, I know she’s here, everyone heard the two of you enter town. It’s a small place, Link.”

He fished out an old, half-faded blue pair of shorts. “Zelda wants to go swimming, Niko.”

Niko’s eyes widened, “What? But you-”

Link slammed the wardrobe door shut with perhaps more force than necessary. “I know.”

Niko hesitated, before he placed a gnarled hand on Link’s shoulder. “I have a question for you Link… Do you know of any of Princess Zelda’s weaknesses?”

Well, that one was easy. “She’s absolutely terrified of mice. She will literally jump into my arms, or onto my back, to escape them.” He chuckled, “Even as a giant Phantom, three times my height, she couldn’t come near one.” He hesitated, thinking back to their recent conversations on her balcony under the stars, “She’s also scared of not doing well... but I guess this is a fear we all have…”

“That’s your answer then, Link.”

Huh? Why would knowing what Zelda was scared of make any difference?

“I can see you are still confused. Let me make it clearer. Did you judge the Princess for having those failings? Did you at any point think less of her?”

He vehemently shook his head, before stopping midway as it finally sunk in.

Oh.

Niko simply tapped his cane against the floor twice, before ambling off. “I’ll make some fried chicken for you both. One always gets hungry after swimming in the sea.”

Link scrambled into his shorts, and then ran out, just as Zelda walked up to meet him. “You were gone for an awfully long time, Link. I don’t want to imagine how disorganised your wardrobe is-”

The words bubbled out, “Zelda I don’t know how to swim.”

“-at least you’ve got some… are those even trunks? Well-”

“Zelda.” He grabbed her hand, shaking her arm a little, “Zelda!”

“What?”

“I don’t know how to swim.”

She stared, stupefied. “Why didn’t you say? I would have brought my floats!”

It was his turn to gape. “Floats?”

She waved her hands in the air. “You know those things you use to keep you upright in the water.” A frown grew on her face, “Wait, does everyone here not know how to swim? That’s quite dangerous! We’ll have to change that.”

She shook her head, gently clasped his hand, pulling him along, “But that’s for later. I’ll teach you today, Link, if you want?”

He nodded, and she smiled.

“Let’s start off with paddling first, and then progress to basic kicks!”

Time flew by again, as he started off gently peddling his feet in the water, arms spread out wide, head just about jutting above the water line as he hovered, suspended in the sea, for the first time. Once he’d mastered just holding his weight in the water they proceeded onto kicks. That involved first thrashing his legs whilst gripping onto the ridge of land to hold himself in place. Then he advanced to doing one leg at a time like a proper swimming pattern. Zelda wrapped her arms around his middle, and he had a go at moving both arms and legs in synchrony.

He was surprised she could carry him, “Link, I do exercise you know. I’m not just a fluffy Princess. Being a Phantom was quite the experience.”

She heaved him higher, and he spluttered in the water, thrashing his arms a bit at the unexpected heave, “I liked being strong, and being able to help you. So, I’m going to do the best I can with my current body too. You never know, it might prove useful on our next adventure!”

He could only smile. He thanked the Spirits for giving him the chance to meet Zelda. For going on their convoluted journey. For having her as his best friend.

Soon enough, she gently let go of him, and moved to interlock her fingers with his hands as she guided him through the waves, his legs doing the measured, purposeful kicks they had practised.

He was so focussed, he hadn’t at all noticed Alfonso on the shore, until he called out to them, probably wondering what Link was even doing in the water. Zelda told Link to keep on kicking his legs as she slowly walked backwards, screamed back that he was okay and that he was learning to swim. Both of them cringed as they heard Alfonso guffaw loudly and watched as he shook his head, walking off towards the station.

“Well, we’re nearly there, Link!” She loosened her grip on his left hand, moving to clasp his wrist instead, “I’m barely holding onto you! You’re doing it! You’re swimming!”

And he gave her the biggest smile he could, as she slowly let go, wading backwards, and he swam by himself towards her, for the very first time.

Suddenly, the idea of doing this again was no longer so horrifying.

What was there to worry about when he had Zelda, his partner, his best friend, by his side?

#the perils of swimming #zelink #zelink fanfic #zelink fanfiction #the legend of zelda #loz #spirit tracks #st zelink #collab #swimming #when you say yes to the girl without thinking #link is a besotted fool and that's why he said yes without thinking #silent writes

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shihalyfie · 3 years

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How to meet (or reunite with) your Digimon partner, according to 02

Here’s a post dedicated to those of you who are worried or sad about Kizuna’s premise, or how the way it ends is supposed to lead up to the 02 epilogue, and are thinking of that elephant-in-the-room question of “so then how do they get their partners back?” I’m not the Kizuna staff, so I can’t say anything for sure, but I can tell you that 02 gives us some interesting leads here!

You’re probably thinking “weren’t Kizuna and the problem of partnership dissolution made after 02? Isn’t this an Adventure movie? Why are you bringing 02 into this?” Ah, but you see, that might be true if you’re thinking of it on a technical plot level, but 02 as a series isn’t as thematically displaced from Kizuna as you might think, especially when the exact same real-life incident about a kid skipping grades, the one that literally was the foundation for 02′s creation to begin with, was brought back 20 years later for Menoa’s backstory. Certainly, a lot of the plot points introduced in Kizuna are new to it, but the themes and things it wants to say about self-acceptance and how to pursue happiness have very deep parallels to 02 -- which means that it’s not much of a stretch to think that some of the answers to the questions presented in Kizuna can be found in 02, too.

While it’s true that “getting your partner back from adulthood existential-crisis induced disappearance” is not a problem that necessarily presented itself in 02, remember that we’re dealing with a lot of theme parallels here -- a Digimon is part of one’s heart, and the central characters of both narratives (Ken and Menoa) had backstories that came from the same real-life story, one that warns that pressuring a kid into “adult” situations that they’re not emotionally prepared to handle will mess them up and cause them to lose their sense of self. The answer to the question of “how to get a partner back” in Kizuna was only pursued by the very scientifically-minded Menoa, who mashed keys on the keyboard and played around with egg data to get it to work, but this is Digimon, where these kinds of fateful meetings and evolutionary moments happen because of the heart, and everyone depicted lost their partners for reasons related to mentality and not science (remember, Menoa lost Morphomon at 14). Has Menoa done any real introspection in the last eight years? Probably not.

So, back in 02, when Ken did lose his sense of self, he eventually came back to his senses and decided to reclaim Wormmon. Thanks to how the plot worked, Wormmon merely “died” and was set to be reborn at the Village of Beginnings, but...

Just being reborn by the mechanics of the plot wouldn’t do it. Ken would never be able to find Wormmon again until he accepted something else, which is...

...himself. Everything good and bad about him, what he’d done in the past, how he has to move on with that, and how to move on with the person he actually is instead of the shell of the Kaiser. And with that, he is led to Wormmon, and is able to start the process of repairing their relationship.

So the point made here in 02 episode 23 is: one will only be able to be reunited with their partner if they can accept everything about themselves and become able to move on -- something that Menoa, who forced herself into the role of an “adult” in the hopes of getting more acceptance among her peers and eventually drowned herself in nostalgia, was most certainly not doing over the course of the movie.

So anyway, we get to 02 episode 50, and the parallel becomes even less subtle -- “a Digimon partner” is given a very direct correlation to “one’s own personal aspirations and dreams”. If you look back at the entire plot of 02 up to this point, with Ken and the Dark Seed children, all of them have been shoving aside “themselves” and “what they wanted to do” in an effort to please others -- to become well-behaved, studious, athletic, whatever society expected of them, instead of what they wanted to do.

So all of the kids admit all of the embarrassing, “undignified” dreams that they’d been holding back because they’d felt that they weren’t “allowed” to have them (following Daisuke’s shameless example of admitting that he’s fine with doing something as simple as running a ramen shop), and are encouraged to be a bit shameless about it and forget what society wants them to do, instead of what they want to do. The word “belief” is brought up a lot in this episode -- it’s not just having dreams, you also have to really, truly believe in your ability to make them happen and have the gusto to follow them without restraint.

And so, this strong resolution to have “belief” allows their partners to spontaneously manifest in front of them -- and it’s all but stated that said “dreams” and said partners are equivalent, and even implied that their partners had always existed in their hearts in some form, just not able to truly appear until they fully accepted themselves. Or, in other words, you will only be able to meet your partner when you embrace everything about yourself and what you want to do, regardless of what others think or what society expects of you, and have the will to pursue it.

(By the way, yes. Spontaneously manifest. Even if most of Adventure/02 had been defined by concrete mechanics for the most of it, in the end, this is still a narrative about the human heart before anything else.)

And guess who else learns this lesson by the end of the episode?

When Oikawa, who had been childishly (hmmm) chasing after shallow symbols of his past in order to get it back (hmmmmmm) because he considered himself too much of a “tainted adult” (hmmmm, sounds familiar) back in 02 episode 48, finally comes to realize what his actual mistake was and that he should have been more free about pursuing his dreams instead of accepting Chikara taking them away from him and Hiroki, Oikawa is finally able to reconnect with the partner he’d “lost” all of those years ago (hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm). So, again, you will only be able to reunite with your partner once you accept everything about yourself and what you should do from here on out.

(Hey, fun fact: Pipimon also spontaneously appeared in front of Oikawa the moment he accepted this. Although the exact specifics of the current “adulthood” issue were probably not conceived until Kizuna, “not being able to reach a partner that you once had due to cutting your own dreams off” has precedent!)

Moreover, Menoa’s backstory seems practically engineered to make sure that she never witnessed this nor learned this lesson -- she lost her partner “eight years ago”, in 2002, the exact same year the events of 02 took place. Assuming that she lost said partner in the middle of the year (her flashback seems to take place in spring or so, when university admissions results are issued), this would have prevented her from participating in the “world tour” battles around the world in 02 episodes 40-42 and engaging with Daisuke and friends, and particularly from joining in the final fight with BelialVamdemon and therefore witnessing what happened with the Dark Seed children and Oikawa. Which means that her ability to get this cynical about partnership dissolution being “inevitable” and that there’s no way to regain your hopes and dreams was enabled by the fact that she didn’t get to learn the lesson that the Tokyo Chosen Children did all those years ago...

Let’s look at the four who lost their partners over the course of Kizuna. Where were they at the time they lost their partners?

Menoa: Considering herself spurned by other people who “look at her weird” and desperate to “live on her own two feet” and “be useful to the world”, forced herself into the role of an “adult” by getting herself to skip grades into a university setting she was unprepared for, for the sake of recognition more than anything, and ended up living a very lonely life

Taichi: Isolated himself from others for the sake of living independently and “having his own life to live”, losing focus about anything he wanted to do, and allowing himself to get slowly disconnected from Agumon

Yamato: Developed a sense of detachment from his old hobbies and started living life for a “grace period” due to lack of real focus on what he wanted to do

Sora: Started forcing herself into “obligations” to succeed her mother in flower arrangement and from her Chosen Child duties, to the point she isolated herself from others and started losing control over herself

(Funny thing: a big part of 02′s story was about finding support in others and fostering your relationships, and here we are with four people who are slowly “isolating” themselves from others...)

It’s not about “becoming an adult” and losing your partner. It’s about shoving yourself into the societally-enforced standard of an adult and losing yourself in the process, and therefore losing your ability to see your partner.

And so, by the end of Kizuna, all four of them have lost their partners -- but we also see the characters we know and love starting to follow their way to what we know is the 02 epilogue, through some very unsubtle hint dropping (retroactive hints to the careers we’re already aware of, such as Taichi’s future in diplomacy). Which means that the eventual existence of the 02 epilogue is in itself the answer to the question, because the epilogue is: everyone found what they wanted to do and pursued it, and therefore everyone eventually figured out their personal aspirations and what they wanted to do, and were able to accept and pursue it, which was established earlier as the key to meeting your partner.

By the way! It’s also revealed in 02 episode 50 that the Digital World itself is at least partially formed on “the power to materialize emotions” (both positive and negative), which is the explanation for so many phenomena over both Adventure and 02 being related to the human heart, and presumably is also why Digimon partners can even exist to begin with (they’re literally supposed to be a part of the inner self, so the power of the Digital World is what “brings them out”). All four “disappearances” on record happened with all four of them in the real world, fixated on their obligations to society and attempting to turn themselves into model citizens, but all of the above “meetings” with partners in 02 -- and Menoa making true “contact” with Morphomon (inside Eosmon) for the first time since her disappearance -- also happened in the Digital World, the world of idealistic dreams, personal aspirations, and the materialization of people’s emotions.

#digimon #digimon adventure 02 #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #kizuna spoilers

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tiptapricot · 3 years

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I’ve been having a lot of Evil Robo BnT thoughts recently, so here’s a bunch of them! This ended up pretty long just as a forwarning djjdjd

Post DeNomolos, Evil BnT are forced to do a lot of self exploration and discovery

They’re two robots from the far future, stuck in the past with each other and the two humongously important historical figures they were not only sent back to kill, but also physically made to look and sound exactly like, with no way back to their own time and no further reason to carry out the mission they were created for

It’s a lot to adjust to

(Three uses of the f-slur near the end in a canon compliant/reclaimed usage context, and implied sexual content, but extremely mild)

It still doesn’t have much of an impact on them at first though, besides some anger and annoyance. They don’t feel emotions in the same way or to the same depth that humans do, so they kind of fall back on: this sucks and that guy was a dick, guess we have to live in the stupid past now, and that’s the extent of it

But they’re also AIs, and AIs learn and grow

They hide out in a cheap apartment for the first few months or so back, going out to steal money to pay for rent and to pick up movies and stuff, but it’s exposure to the world, it’s living. And the more they interact with people, the more media they consume, the more the rigid walls of their programming break down and expand

And that’s when things start getting complicated

Because that’s when things like morals, sense of self, purpose in life, and, to their horror, real emotions start coming into play

Their evil edges start corroding, things stop being as straightforward, and they start developing into their own complex people

Being Bill and Ted with a few glorified descriptors stuck on the front starts feeling… weird, especially when they inevitably end up running into them again and being around them more

Because they’re supposed to be Bill and Ted, but they aren’t, and yet they can’t completely deny the parts of themselves that are….. it’s frustrating

As a first step in both asserting and exploring their individuality, they choose their own names

Evil Bill chooses Willis, or Will for short, and Evil Ted goes with Theoneous, Theo for short

It’s different enough to feel like their own thing, while still appeasing the ingrained itch to take BnT’s place

There are gaps like that, a disconnect/mental dissonance between their consciousnesses and the knowledge that they’re robots, circuitboards and wires and code, like a separation between what they feel is them and what they feel is the robot

That’s an experience that continues as they grow, especially as they try and figure out what to do with their lives. It’s tough sometimes, to figure out where the programming ends and where their own wants and drives begin

They’re the only ones familiar enough with future tech to help each other when they experience technical issues or need repairs, and the only ones they feel comfortable being that physically vulnerable with

It leads to them being kind of codependent, but it’s warranted in a lot of ways

They also naturally stick closer to each other, because even though they grow to have emotions and are able to care about people, they aren’t totally mushy

They don’t get as upset about things, or as excited, and while they form their own kind of love for the people they end up caring about (without admitting it), they’re still never able to connect with humans in the same way they connect with each other

It’s this inherent wall, a difference in how they experience the world

Their forms of affection are machine based, just like how humans are human based. They’ll give each other cold packs when it’s hot or they’ve been moving a lot, they’ll do evening maintenance on each other, chatting while one of them has their hand in the other’s chest cavity, and they jump on each other or bang their shoulders together super hard, because they can’t feel a thing and they’re durable enough for it, and that’s fun to them

That doesn’t really carry over to human interaction though, and a lot of times they end up coming across as cold or mean

They generally have a rougher seeming relationship than most humans. There’s a lot of teasing and insults and slapping, which turns most people off from them, but that’s how they show they’re comfortable (it’s also how they show they don’t like people, but there’s a subtle and meaningful difference there, AKA that they won’t purposefully try to harm the former party)

Robots process sound differently too, for them it’s more of a physical experience than just listening

Will’s guilty pleasure is that he likes to listen to piano (secretly), especially Debussy and other classical that sounds similar. Something about it makes his circuitry feel good and fuzzy and calms him down

He doesn’t feel comfortable telling Theo about it, it still feels like a dumb pussweed thing to be into (plus it continues to make him have some most non metal thoughts about kissing and That’s DEFINITELY not something he can share)

They also both really like death metal. Though they were loosely programmed with the knowledge of BnT’s music taste, it’s not quite their style, and they lean towards the more intense stuff

They do that in most fields though, since it usually takes higher energy stuff to get them going/excited/into something

That’s why they roughhouse a lot, and mess things up, and drive recklessly, it forces their mechanics to process more things more quickly, and as a result gives them their own form of dopamine/adrenaline

Sometimes things backfire, they’ve fucked themselves up accidentally on more then one occasion when stuff goes too far or isn’t what they expect, but they’re always there to patch each other up

When their synth skin gets ripped or torn they don’t always bother to repair it, and underneath there’s a layer of see through hard plastic and their bodies look like those clear case electronics that were popular in the 90s (idea cred to @juiceboxfrog !)

They also have inspector gadget-like telescoping stretch arms at their wrist and ankle joints, but they don’t use those much because they’re unsettling to most humans. Definitely a leg up when they want to climb places the shouldn’t, though (idea cred to @showbiz-za !)

Theo is more prone to needing fix ups than Will, since the extra wiring that was installed for the time and space spanning camera DeNomolos gave him made him more susceptible to short circuiting, over heating, and other glitches

After awhile he just takes his left eye out and leaves it like that, keeping his hair in his face to cover it. It doesn’t do anything for the internal parts of it he still has, but it’s not like it’s a loss. The connection port kept sparking, and it was uncomfortable and kept fucking with his vision, so it wasn’t worth it

Plus he didn’t really like that it used to be a camera… or still could be

One of the things Will and Theo both have to get used to is actually valuing their own privacy and autonomy

When DeNomolos was around they were just his tools, tools that he didn’t even like

They honestly grow to resent him pretty fast, both with his treatment of them, and, when their emotions are especially out of control, his creation of them

They don’t talk about it much, or when they do it’s mainly anger, not addressing or showing the more raw parts they do feel, because that’s still foreign to them, and their circuits weren’t designed to process or understand more complex stuff

Complex stuff like how being around Ted more makes Theo develop a certain… insecurity

It’s not like the connections are hard to make: he looks like Ted, he sounds like Ted, he was meant to be Ted, Ted has a dickweed of a dad, and Theo had a dickweed of a creator, Ted has Bill and Theo has Will

But Theo doesn’t have Deacon

And while he doesn’t want to be exactly like Ted, part of him also does (it was made to). Part of him wants to be human, to have those natural connections and someone to watch over

But he doesn’t and it’s weird*

He tries to ignore it, chalks it up to his drive still attempting to put him on his original track of replacing Ted, and therefore making him more aware of the family roles Ted has

For all he knows that is what it is, he’s just a robot after all

Even though they aren’t really ones for mushy love, Will and Theo do love each other

You can’t not when you know the other person inside and out, literally

They joke a lot about that when they’re doing repairs (“Dude you’re holding my heart, pretty faggy of you.”), and though they laugh, there’s an unspoken intimacy to it, something that sits warm in their wires and goes beyond platonic; something (though they would never describe it as such) loving about getting to take care of each other, and getting to get taken care of

The jokes also stop being jokes after awhile and take on a charge, morphing into unofficial flirting

Eventually that charge sparks, and their relationship becomes a different kind of physical. That’s new, too, a type of exploration neither of them are familiar with, but it’s nice, it’s good, and it’s easier to write off as casual and not meaningful than anything else (for the record I do think this works/plays out different for them than it does for humans, but I will nOt get into that here or anywhere lmao)

That arrangement doesn’t last forever, though, because one night Theo has a bad malfunction that cause him to completely power down, and it sends Will into a panic

It takes him almost an hour to fix the problem and for Theo to reboot, and when he comes back Will can’t stop touching him and checking in and it’s weird

“Why are you so worked up dude, this’s happened plenty of times.”

“Yeah I know you just… you fritzed out and went limp and it freaked me out dude.”

“So? You know this is nothing to worry about. I don’t get why you’re kinda acting like such a pussweed dude.”

“I didn’t know what was wrong! That’s plenty of reason to be fucking worried!”

“Not for you! Not for us! Why the hell do you care so much this time?”

“Because I love you, asshole!”

And then there’s silence, and staring, and then Theo cracks a smile

“Heh, fag.”

Kissing after a confession, as it turns out, makes both of them short circuit, and they wake up three days later still tangled up on top of each other, half falling off the apartment couch

“Y’know… I think we’re both fags now dude,” Will whispers, and they chuckle in the space between their mouths. “I did it first though.”

*he does get this later with Billie and Thea, but that’s a whole separate post

(As one last thing wanted to add that Love Came Along by Pansy Division perfectly encapsulates the vibes of Will n Theo’s relationship to me, AKA something casual and almost humorous while still being super intimate and emotional, so def check it out if you’re ok with suuuuper explicitly sexual lyrics bfgjgfdfg)

Headcanons masterpost

#these two have been rattling around in my head for months I have so much brainrot #and y’know what you’re getting next? my *good* robo bnt brain rot #apologies in advance ive fleshed them out in my head wayyyy too much #with help from the discord💖#shout out as always bnt discord peeps ilyyyy #bnt #bill and ted #bill and ted’s bogus journey #evil bill #evil ted #evil robot bill and ted #the fruit is talking again #the fruit is headcanoning again

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

Text

Agent Marinette

Okay I have struggled all week with a massive case of Writers block and today I beat it. This a crossover fic. Guess it by the end.

In retrospect, Marinette should’ve realized eventually other forces outside of Paris would take an interest in the masked heroine. At least they had been polite enough to wait until AFTER Hawkmoth was defeated.

Marinette was eleven when she became the hero Ladybug. And her world shattered a bit.

Marinette was fourteen when Hawkmoth was finally defeated.

Marinette was fourteen when Ladybug retired. And her world shattered again, this time a bit more.

It had taken nearly every miraculous they had to take the villain down but eventually, Gabriel Agreste was taken down, his memories of the miraculous erased. (Nathalie with him) His son Adrien Agreste surrendered his own miraculous, his position as Chat Noir, and his own memories of being a hero and everything he’d ever learned of magic and Kwami. All to prevent his father from ever learning of them again.

However, erasing his memories of his life as Chat Noir, unavoidably included erasing his memories of his friendship Ladybug, with Marinette. A friendship that had grown stronger, in and outside the mask, over fighting the evil that haunted Paris back together. Keyword: together.

On the same day, Ladybug had lost her best friend, Marinette did too. Both lost the boy she thought she’d marry one day. They could never be together. She’d have to lie to him for the rest of their lives. Marinette would never be able to do that. And she wouldn’t let Adrien’s sacrifice be in vain.

So she distanced herself from him. She couldn’t look at him without seeing Chat Noir. She couldn’t look at him, knowing she knew just about everything about him but he knew nothing about her. To him, Marinette was just some girl in his class; a sort of friend he was never really that close to.

Strangers, really.

It was why Marinette transferred out of Bustier’s class. The best thing for her heart was to stay away.

Still, she thought in a way, it was a happy ending. The best happy ending she could get. Hawkmoth was gone. Paris was safe. Ladybug was retired. Fu had reclaimed all Kwami and had disappeared. The world was good.

Until it wasn’t. Until one rainy Thursday. Her parents had gone out for a date night. They never made it home. There had been an accident. The other driver had been drunk. The funeral was on a Tuesday.

Marinette’s world had shattered once again, more than ever before.

Marinette was an orphan.

Her grandmother Gina sold the bakery, put the money from the sale and the life insurance into an account for Marinette, and moved Marinette into a nearby apartment, and then was gone. Legally, the older woman was Marinette’s guardian. But otherwise, Marinette was on her own. It was fine. Her dad had always warned her that his mom was a free spirit who never liked to be tied down.

She would talk with her grandmother once every other month if she was lucky. They primarily only communicated through email. The reception was spotted in the parts of the world Gina like to frequent.

At only fourteen, Marinette got used to paying bills, buying groceries, and virtually being an adult. She got used to living alone. Just like she got used to not being a hero anymore. Just like she got used to not having any friends after Lila came knocking on the class’s door.

A year later, the young girl was thriving. Her grades were at the top of the school, right after Max. She was class treasurer and on the track team, having missed the feeling of running as fast she could. She started Kuoshu classes; her mother had always wanted her to learn Chinse martial arts for defense. And Marinette missed the adrenaline she used to get after a fight.

It was a good life. A simple life. Marinette had only normal life worries to be concerned about.

…Again, she really should’ve known the other shoe would drop eventually.

Still, no fifteen-year-old girl who was minding her own business, casually walking down the street, wanted to suddenly have a black bag over her and tossed into the back of a van. In fact, it was every girl, woman, and human being’s worst nightmare.

She was tied up. She was gagged. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t hear. Marinette had no idea how much time had passed. Or where they were taking her. Or who had taken her? She fought the tears that burned in her eyes as she struggled with the bonds around her hands. No matter how hard she tried, they wouldn’t break or budge. By the coldness of it, she knew she was either in handcuff or something similar made of metal.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Marinette felt herself be picked up and carried. She struggled against her assailant. She tried to kick her with her bound legs, hit with her tied fists. Nothing.

Marinette found herself being lower onto something. A chair she quickly realizes as she pressed her back to it.

Suddenly, the metal band around her hands released. Marinette quickly pulled the black bag off her head, undid the tap around her mouth, and took the plugs out of her ears.

She was in a mostly black room that only lights overhead, a vent the size of a phone, the table she sat at, and a large mirror across from her. Marinette figured it was a two-way mirror-like on cop shows, and that she was being watched. However, what concerned her most was that there was no sign of any door. Just walls and that mirror.

There was no escape.

Marinette glared at the mirror, at whoever was behind it.

She didn’t know how long she waited as she plotted her escape. Considering all variables for when they came back to her. Would they have guns? How many people would there be? Could she fight her way out? And just who her kidnappers could be? Child traffickers? Serial killer? Her past enemy, Hawkmoth, comes back for revenge? Who?

When a portion of the wall, next to the mirror opened, Marinette tried not to flinch back in surprise.

In walked a man at least twice her age. He wore a black suit and tie with a serious expression on his face. He was handsome with short dark hair and dark eyes and cheekbones that could cut glass.

The door closed behind him once he stepped through. He said nothing as he sat down in the chair across from her. They started at each other silently.

Marinette cracked first, “Who are you? What do you want? Where am I?”

A small smile appeared on the man’s face, “You’re a very hard girl to track down, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’d have thought it would’ve been easier considering all you’ve done.” He had an American accent.

“Track? What?” Why would he want to track her down? “I didn’t do anything. Nothing! Okay?!”

He gave her a curious look, “Really? Well, I wouldn’t call saving all of Paris on a nearly everyday basis for what two years, nothing.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Don’t try to deny it. We have pictures, videos; evidence.”

It was like someone had thrown ice water over her head. Marinette swallowed the lump that had built in her throat. “Who. Are. You.” She managed to get out.

“Me? I’m a friend,” He answered. “You can call me Black Heart.”

“Black Heart?” Marinette snorted. “You’re serious?”

“Oh because Ladybug is so much better,” He rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. I have questions. You’re going to answer them.”

He wanted to know about the miraculous, she guessed. Or how she got her powers. Marinette crossed her arms, “I have nothing to say.”

Black Heart chuckled and stood up. He put his hands on the table, “Listen very carefully, Marinette. Because there are only two ways we can do this.”

Marinette smirked, “Is one of them the easy way?”

A look she couldn’t recognize briefly flashed over Black Heart’s face but gone just as quick. “No,” He answered.

“Oh.”

“Who are you?” He asked her.

She paused before answering, “…My name is Marinette but you know that. I was the hero Ladybug but you know that as well.”

“What happened to HawkMoth?”

She felt fine answering that. However, she gave the same answer she gave to the press, “Hawkmoth was defeated. He was stripped of his powers and destroyed.”

“You killed him?”

It wasn’t the first time Ladybug had been asked that question. “…Yes.” She lied though it didn’t feel like much of one. Hawkmoth was dead after all.

Blackheart nodded. “What happened to Chat Noir? And the other heroes? Dead too?”

Marinette fought to keep her face blank, her fists clenched. “Yes,” She said. “They were causalities of the final fight with Hawkmoth.” Technically not a lie. Every Parisian hero had given up their miraculous once and for all after Hawkmoth was gone. There was no need for them anymore.

The man raised an eyebrow, “Gabriel Agreste is still very much alive last I checked.” She reared back as if slapped. “So is Adrien is otherwise known as Chat Noir. Alya Cesaire aka Rena Rouge, her turtle boyfriend. The monkey guy. The tiger. The snake; Luka, I believe. All alive and kicking. So much for that lie…”

“They were retired,” Marinette growled. “Permanently.”

“Truth,” Blackheart nodded. “How did you erase their memories?”

It had taken the combined power of Fu, Marinette, Tikki, Wayzz, and Plagg to do it. “I didn’t do anything.”

Black Heart gave her a hard look, “Where do your powers come from?”

Marinette smiled, “I don’t have any powers.”

“Fine! Where do Ladybug’s powers come from?”

“I am Ladybug,” She told him. “And Ladybug doesn’t have any powers.”

“You mean anymore?”

Marinette nodded slowly.

Black Heart sat back in his chair, “You’re telling me that you busted your ass saving Paris for two years, only to have your powers taken from you? You were tossed to the side just like that? Like you were nothing? I’m supposed to believe that.”

“I wasn’t needed anymore.” By anyone.

“You took down one of the biggest threats to this world,” The man said. “You fought. You bled. You sacrificed everything. From what our intelligence has gathered, you even gave up the love of your young life. Only to be cast aside; alone, forgotten, abandoned…”

“That’s not what happened,” Marinette shook her head.”

“You weren’t useful anymore,” Blackheart tutted. “So you were thrown away; left to fend for yourself in a cold, cruel world. No friends, no family,”

“Shut up,” Marinette whispered.

The man leaned forward, “How many internships did you turn down because you were too busy being a hero? Two? Three?”

“Shut up!” She said louder.

“Wait, it was five. That’s right.” He continued on as if she said nothing. “Five internships with some of the biggest names in fashion today. And you gave it up. Now what you have to show for it? Nothing!” He said. “You live this mundane life halfheartedly, struggling to find your place again, trying to get back even a fraction of the feeling you had when you fighting for this world!”

“SHUT UP!” Marinette roared.

Black Heart shook his head, “I asked you who you are. But I already know who you are. I know who you were. You were a hero, a martyr, a leader, a little princess who believed in fairytales and the goodness of people. You were someone who believed this world could still be saved! So I just want to know three things. I have three questions to ask you and then you never have to see me again! You can go back to pretending to be whatever the hell you want. I don’t care.”

“What?” Marinette asked. “What could you possibly want to know?” Need to know that he didn’t already. “Huh? Just tell me!”

“Do you still believe this world can be saved?”

Silence.

“…What?”

“Answer the question.”

Marinette blinked, “Yes. I do.”

“Are you still willing to fight for it?” Black Heart asked.

“Always.”

He smiled, and leaned back in his chair, “Last question… What do you know about Shield?”

Well, that was a twist. Marinette’s eyes went wide. She knew a lot about shield. More than any normal teenage girl should. But a former Ladybug had been an Agent. And Tikki told her everything... It was founded by Peggy Carter and Howard Stark. Shield started the Avengers. They had been protecting the world for decades.

“A lot,” Marinette answered. “What do you want?

The man gave her a small smile, “World peace.”

The doors of the room opened again in walked a beautiful young woman with long hair a bright smile on her face, “You done traumatizing the poor girl yet.”

The man groaned, “Dammit, Skye.”

Marinette officially joined Shield the next day.

Skye showed her the ropes and explained until she garnered some trust, most would give her their full name; maybe only even their code name.

In another life, Skye hadn’t joined Shield until she was well into her twenties. In this life, she was recruited by a woman named Hill as soon as she graduated high school. It had been nearly ten years since. Skye had met Black Heart when she was about three years in, and they had disliked each other.

Now they mostly tolerated the others’ existence. Only really dealing with each other on missions.

Skye would be gone the next day. And Marinette would only see her once in a blue moon.

Marinette would withdraw from school and finish her education taught by some of the greatest minds in the world. She would give up her apartment, and leave Paris. She would call her grandmother one last time for what would be months to let her know she was going to travel the world; her grandmother was pleased as she had done the same when she was not much older than Marinette. Gina disregarded the fact that she had been a legal adult at the time.

It would be the last call she made from her phone. The line was disconnected and the phone tossed.

Then she visited the place that had been her parents’ bakery, not their graves; because she would rather remember them alive, happy, and loving, then dead in the ground. And she told them goodbye.

Before leaving Paris for good, she dropped off a perfectly wrapped green and black present off at the Agreste home. Adrien’s birthday was coming up. Inside the gift box was a black leather jacket with cat-shaped buttons. She handed the gift to Nathalie.

This time, however, Marinette was quick to tell the older woman that MDC was sewn inside on the jacket; multiple times.

Then she walked away; not looking back once.

It was the last thing Adrien would ever get from her. The last thing he would unknowingly have of Chat Noir. Ironically, the masked hero the blond had come to idolize in recent times.

The jacket was all she could give him of his as a hero, and not even a fraction of all she had wished to give him.

One day he would forget her altogether. One day she would just be a random former classmate of his whose name he couldn’t quite remember.

However, Marinette would never forget Adrien Agreste and Chat Noir. She would remember when Adrien was Chat Noir, one of the greatest heroes Paris would ever know. And she would remember Chat Noir was Adrien, and Adrien proved to be a greater hero than even he ever dared dream Chat Noir would be.

Marinette would remember because she owed him that much at least.

The night she left Paris would be the last time she dreamed of a life with Adrien. A life where they got to grow old together; one where wedding bells were heard. And he’d kiss her every time she left. And she’d kiss him every time she came back. A life where they got to see where their love would take them, and maybe one day hear the pitter-patter of little feet on their floor.

A life where Marinette did actually become a fashion designer. A life where she married Adrien, Alya was still her best friend, her parents were alive, the world was good and kind, and two heroes got the finale they deserved.

A life where love was enough, and they got their happy ending. The forever they never got would haunt her forever.

Marinette was fifteen when she went she joined shield and went back to doing what she did best; helping people, saving the world.

Marinette was fifteen when she became an Agent of Shield.

Marinette was fifteen when she learned how to shoot a gun.

Marinette was fifteen when she joined Black Hear became her mentor. The training had been a killer. More than once, Marinette had nearly quit.

Blackheart would just shake his head at her and say, “Life is tough, kid,” He’d give her an easy smile. “But so are you.”

Marinette smiled.

“You and me?” Grant said. “We’re the same. We’re Kevlar. We do whatever it takes to complete the mission. We get the job done. Keep our feelings and emotions; personal wants and desires in check. For the greater good. Its who we are. Whatever it takes.”

“Whatever it takes,” Marinette repeated back. “But that doesn’t mean we have to shut people out; each other out.”

“Yes, it does,” Grant said firmly. “Yes, I do.” He stopped talking and look Marinette in the eyes, “There are things about me you don’t know. I’ve done things I… Thing you wouldn’t like if you knew.”

“We all have,” Marinette shrugged at her father figure. “It’s a part of the job. I get it.”

Grant smiled at her, “I know you do. I know you would. We’re the same. We know this world isn’t all happiness and rainbows but we don’t stop trying to save it. We don’t stop believing it can be saved; that what we’re doing has a purpose. But there are things I can’t tell you. Things about me… that you wouldn’t like if you knew. One day, I hope you understand though. I know we will. We’re the same. But You’re good.”

“So are you,” Marinette said. “Grant, you’re like the best guy I know. You’re good.”

“Not always,” Grant looked away. “You need to know, Marinette, I’m not a good man.”

“I believe you are.” She stated, “You can’t convince me otherwise.”

It would a year later after much trust was built, and they had gone of dozens and dozens of missions that she finally learned his real name.

Grant.

Over the next few years, Grant became like a father to her. And to him, she was like a daughter. He taught her everything he knew. Marinette did everything she could to make him proud. He made her believe that they could really save the world, change the world for the better.

Where Grant went, she followed; most of the time. Sky would slowly start to show up more and more; until it was clear she wasn’t going anyway.

Whenever she was hurt, and the mission was over, Grant would tell a story about his past.

Her favorites were the ones about a monster who loved the sky. It was clear that it was about him and Skye. “Do you want to hear a story, princess?” He smiled. “It’s about a man who struggled with his demons his entire life. Who asked for love throughout his entire life. But he never got it. Until she came. She made him feel important. She made him laugh. She made him better. She became his world.”

Marinette couldn’t understand what was stopping the two from getting together.

She met Nick Fury when she was seventeen and was sent on the first on her first solo mission.

When she was eighteen, Grant and Skye were approached by a man named Coulson. The same Coulson that had supposedly been killed by a god named Loki. The strangest part was Marinette was tapped to join too.

The team consisted of Coulson, May, Grant, Skye, Fitz, Simmons, and Marinette.

They were a team. They became a family.

However, then John Garrett was revealed to be Hydra; a man Marinette had thought she knew well. (Grant killed him. And she mourned with him the man they thought John was.)

Then project insight happened. Nick Fury was killed. Captain America exposed all of Shield in an effort to reveal Hydra.

Shield was labeled a terrorist organization.

The team was on their own.

But, Marinette thought more than once over the next coming months, at least they had each other.

They ended up at a place called Providence. They were given lie detector tests by Agent Eric Koenig. “Fury designed this himself,” The portly man said. “He wanted a lie detector Romanoff couldn’t beat.”

“Did she?” Grant asked

“Like Fury would tell!”

Marinette sat in the machine and tried to relax.

“We’re going to start with some easy question,” Eric told her. “Can I have your full name?”

“Marinette Clarissa Dupain-Cheng.”

“Eye color?”

“Blue,” Marinette stated.

The agent nodded, “Have you ever been married?”

Marinette shook her head, “No.”

“Please list your immediate living family.”

“My grandmother Gina,” Marinette answered. “My grandfather. I considered my team my family though.”

“What’s the difference between an egg and a rock?”

Marinette gave him an “Are you Serious” look, “One's food, ones a weapon.”

“Have you ever heard of project insight?”

“Never.”

“Have you ever had contact with Alexander Pierce.”

“I have,” She answered honestly. “Once. Just after the New York Invasion. Agent Hill introduced me.”

“You wash up on a desert island, alone. Sitting in the sand is a box. What’s in the box?”

“How big is the box?” Marinette asked curiously. “How did it get there? What island am I on? Am I near freshwater.”

“Just say the first thing that comes to your mind, Marinette,” He told her. “What’s in the box?”

“A pair of earrings.”

Eric gives her a funny look but notes her age and shrugs it off. Spy teen girls were still teen girls, after all. “Shield no longer exists. The agency has been labeled a terrorist organization. So why are YOU here.”

Marinette thought about the question. She had thought about it before. Shield had fallen. No one knew who was or wasn’t Hydra. She should’ve been gone in the wind. However, she had never even considered it. “Shield is all I have. Ward, Skye, Coulson, May, Simmons, Fitz, Trip; they’re all I have. They’re my family.” She told him. “And truthfully, I joined Shield because I believe this world is worth saving. I believe it can still be saved. I believe that it is good in this world, and it’s worth fighting for.”

“I love Lord of the Rings,” Agent Eric Koenig grinned. “Let’s get you a Lanyard, Agent Dupain-Cheng.

While Skye, May, and Grant stayed at Providence, Marinette joined Coulson and the others.

When Marinette returned to the base after saving the Cellist lady. The bus was gone. May was gone. Grant and Skye were gone.

What was left of the team had debated long about what had happened; why the three had left.

When Coulson said, “Worst case… We've had a wolf in the herd the whole time.”

Marinette didn’t believe that at first. Not until she heard the scream. Saw Agent Eric Koenig’s body. Saw the word written on the picture.

Ward is Hydra.

“Not Ward,” Fitz said.

“Not Ward,” Marinette repeated. “Not Ward.” Skye was wrong. She had to be wrong. Ward couldn’t be Hydra. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

Then Simmons gave the analyze of Agent Eric Koenig’s murder.

“Ward did this,” Simmons said.

In a fury, Fitz smashed a few things.

Marinette could only stare in space as the words penetrated her mind.

Ward is Hydra.

The man she thought she knew the best.

The man she had sworn her loyalty to, had given all her trust to, had loved like a father.

The man who had gotten her to swear loyalty to Shield.

Grant Ward had been her S.O. Her mentor. Her leader. Her captain.

Grant Ward was Hydra.

And just like that, Marinette’s world shattered again.

And just like that, everything she ever thought she believed in was questioned.

It would be months before she saw him again, and by then it had been confirmed without a doubt Grant Ward was Hydra. He was the enemy.

He would try to kill the team multiple times. Grant Ward would do everything he could to get her alone to speak with and or to Skye. Like he could change their minds. He had gone full psycho Hydra and didn’t seem to be stopping any time soon.

Marinette was captured by Hydra not long before her twenty-first birthday.

She was tied up and chained to a desk.

Grant Ward walked in with an easy smile on his face, “Marinette. This brings back memories.”

“Old Blackheart himself,” The bluenette hissed back. “Good to see you again. Oh, Wait! As your lot puts; Hail Hydra, right?”

He nodded and sat down across from her, “Ladybug.”

“Just kill me,” Marinette shrugged. “I won’t tell you anything. You know I won’t. I won’t Hydra. You and the rest of the freaking Nazi can go to hell.”

Ward looked shocked, “Kill you? You really think I would… I would never hurt you, Marinette!” He told her. “You have to know that. I would never want to hurt you.”

“Maybe not want to,” Marinette looked him dead in the eye. “But you will. All apart of the job, right.”

“Do you think this was easy for me?” Grant asked. “You of all people understand how hard it was; the impossible decisions that had to be made. You know what it's like to make a choice that breaks you inside. But we make them anyway. I made them anyway. Because that’s what I do. What we do.”

Marinette shuddered. “A Double Agent. Do what needs to be done. Betray everyone who loves you, cares about you. Because we don’t matter, only the mission does. Right? That’s what you tried to train into me; anything for the mission.”

“No!” Ward shouted. “That’s who you were before I ever met you. You don’t get to put that on me. That’s why Shield wanted you. Because you did whatever it took to stop Hawkmoth for good. Whatever it took for the greater good. That’s how I knew we were the same.”

Silence.

Ward stood up, “You’re good. I get that. I’ve always known that. But you understand me. You’re a soldier. I’m a soldier.”

“You are a monster,” Marinette said. “You finally convinced. There is no good for you.”

Coulson, May, Lincoln, and Skye rescued her not long after.

Grant and Marinette would face off with each other multiple; fighting to the death; fighting for the cause.

Then one day, Simmons would be gone, Coulson would go after her, and when they came back; Coulson would tell her Grant Ward was dead. He killed him.

Marinette wouldn’t ever admit it but her world shattered just a bit.

However, Marinette would see Grant again but he wasn’t Grant. He was hive. And Hive would nearly take Skye from the team. He would take Lincoln.

After months of fighting the monster for months; doing whatever it took to bring him down; Lincoln, a pretty blond man with light-colored eyes who dared to be a hero, sacrificed himself.

And for the first time in years, Marinette was reminded of Adrien Agreste. She had thought about him occasionally, sure. But seeing Skye cry over Lincoln had reminded her just deeply of her own loss. And remember that she was the one who erased his memories. He wanted the last thing he saw to be her before he never remembered her again.

Marinette was twenty-two when she went to the funeral of Grant Ward. It was in Paris. Marinette was the only one who went. There was nobody to bury but still, Marinette had him laid to rest, not too far away from her parents.

No matter how hard she had tried, Marinette couldn’t find it in her to hate Grant. She had loved him too much. He had been such a big part of who she was.

And she owed it to him to finally see him laid to rest. It was her duty, she supposed.

That was why she buried him in the once place she once thought she’d never return. The place where she once dreamed of another life.

As she stared at his grave, once again she dreamed about another life.

A life where Hydra had never returned. Shield had never fallen. The Avengers weren’t torn apart in a civil war. The world didn’t seem to always be on fire. Skye was still an Agent. Fitz and Simmons were married. Tripp was alive. Lincoln was alive. And Grant Ward was good.

It was a nice dream but she’d leave it in Paris with all rest of her childhood’s hopes, wishes, and dreams.

“You were right,” She told Grant, speaking directly to his headstone as if he was there. “We are the same. I do understand. I’ve always understood. In the end, we always do our duty. Its what defines us. Rest in Peace, Ward.”

Marinette walked out of the cemetery with her head held high. She would stop for ice cream, and cross paths with a tall, handsome, green-eyed, blond man. He’d look right through her.

And it only bothered her a little.

Months after she left Paris again, for good she swore, she would hear on the news about the untimely death of Gabriel Agreste.

She would notify an hour later that Master Fu has surfaced in Paris again. The man had been watched by Shield for years.

She would be told that Master Fu had been spotted around Agreste home.

Marinette didn’t blink twice. It wouldn’t matter. Everyone had moved on. Adrien had moved. Marinette had moved on. And as far as the world was concerned Marinette Dupain-Cheng was dead. She had died years ago.

Seven months later, Coulson would bring her in to help train a new recruit. She would walk into the training room of the bus and see a tall, a tall, handsome, green-eyed, blond man with hope clear on his face, standing next to Coulson, looking at her like he was seeing the sun for the first time in years.

“Kitty?” Marinette whispered.

“My lady.”

Marinette was twenty-three when her world shattered yet again.

#ml salt #Marinette deserves better #marinette dupain cheng #grant ward #agents of shield #Skyeward #adrien agreste #adrien deserves better

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rebeccatherine · 3 years

Text

Reconnaissance

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Rating: Mature Characters: Sharon Carter (Marvel), Sam Wilson (Marvel), Arthur Parks Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Espionage Summary: Sam Wilson accompanies Sharon Carter on an undercover SHIELD mission.

Read on AO3 under the pseud rebeccavis or below.

Sam had offered to sleep on the floor. He said he was used to it from his days in the military, which Sharon understood; Steve had mentioned to her offhandedly before that his bed never felt quite right. However, on this occasion the bed was probably the safest place for both of them. As she had pointed out to Sam, they had a clear view of the window from there should they need it and, if anyone decided to check in on them, it would look a little strange for a doting wife to be alone in a king-size bed. Sam, after looking horrified by the notion of someone spying on him while he was asleep, eventually conceded.

“Sorry.” Sam’s whisper had been preceded by the sound of something soft hitting the floor. “Why do they give you so many dang pillows?”

Sharon chuckled. “I don’t know,” she admitted, “Rich people shit?”

Their backs were turned to each other and, even if they hadn’t been, Sharon doubted she’d be able to see much of anything in the darkness of their isolated cabin. She heard a soft rumble from next to her, though, and could see Sam smiling in her head. “Rich people shit,” he agreed.

Sharon supposed she was meant to go to sleep now. While she hadn’t served in the military, she’d had her fair share of sleeping in strange places as a SHIELD agent, many of which had been far less comfortable than where she was at the moment. Even so, this was maybe the first time she was worried about having trouble drifting off. Her mind was usually where she felt it should be: focused on the job and what steps she needed to take to ensure its success, including getting a good night’s sleep. Tonight, her mind was for some reason lingering on terms of endearment, unexpected compliments and arms wrapped tenderly around her waist.

She felt Sam’s weight shift slowly next to her and suspected he was turning over onto his other side. It was something she had been thinking about, too, although now it meant they’d be face to face, which would be weird. Or would it? She settled for rolling over onto her back instead to stare at the ceiling. Her eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness, and she could just about trace the outline of the wooden beams above her head.

“Hey, Shar?” Sam’s voice was soft, but so unexpected that she froze for a split second. “Can we talk?”

“Sam? Is my purse out there?” Sharon had raised her voice a little, hoping she’d be heard from outside the bathroom where she was putting on her makeup.

“Uh...yeah, I see it, baby,” she heard Sam reply, emphasizing his last word significantly more than was necessary, “Do you need it?”

“Oh, I think I left something in there, but I can…” Sharon trailed off as she heard footsteps in her direction and then a gentle rap on the door she hadn’t bothered to lock. “You can come in. I’m almost done.”

The door opened with a click and Sam stepped in, offering up a smile as his eyes met hers. She could tell there was a slight nervousness to his expression, at odds with how comfortably the bespoke dark suit he was wearing fit him.

“Almost, huh?” he said, his tone playful.

“Wouldn’t want to forget my lipstick,” Sharon explained, reaching over to take her small silver clutch from his hand, “Thanks.”

“Yeah, you’d look terrible without it,” Sam teased, to which Sharon chuckled.

Having reclaimed the missing item from her purse, Sharon turned back towards the mirror to apply the deep red shade to her lips. It reminded her of the colors her aunt had always been fond of wearing, perhaps even more so because, like her aunt once had, she was currently sporting brunette shoulder-length curls. Her dress, on the other hand - red, full-length, with a front slit and a mostly open back - was probably something Peggy would not have opted for unless she had also been undercover.

“Just to be clear - you look amazing, Shar.” She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of Sam’s words, then directed a grin at him.

“So we’re not going with ‘baby’?” she asked.

Sam’s brow furrowed. “Damn it.”

“It’s OK, you don’t have to worry. While you were out I put a bug killer in one of the lamps by the bed, so nobody’s listening in on us,” Sharon assured him as she turned around, “It’s good to get some practice, though.”

“I just thought ‘baby’ would be easier,” Sam explained, “I’m worried I’m going to forget to call you by your cover name.”

“‘Baby’ works great. I’ll go with it, too.” Sharon gave a nod to indicate she was ready to go, then emerged with Sam into the bedroom. “Look, I know this undercover stuff isn’t exactly your thing, but I promise you’re in safe hands,” she added, “Besides, it’s not like you have to put on a British accent or anything.”

“Thank God,” Sam noted, “I bet you can do a great British accent. You have family from there, right?”

“Yeah, that’s an easy one for me. My grandfather’s whole side of the family is British.”

“Did they teach you any fun British slang?”

“Plenty, but I’m pretty sure it’s all from the fifties so I’m totally out of date.” Sharon gave a small shrug of her shoulders. “You know my aunt used to call me ‘Shaz’ sometimes?”

“Shaz?” Sam echoed. His eyebrows raised as he shot an endearing glance at her, clearly entertained by the idea. “That’s amazing. Can I call you ‘Shaz’?”

“Absolutely not,” Sharon replied, though she kept her tone light.

“Noted. Although I make no promises after this mission is over and I’ve found the nearest place where I can get a daiquiri,” Sam noted, “You don’t have to join me, though.”

“Maybe I’d be OK with it under those circumstances,” Sharon conceded with a smile, “I do like ‘Shar’, though.”

Sam looked pleased with himself. He made his way over to the bed to pick up Sharon’s coat, which he offered to her. “Trust me, I’ve worked with you enough and heard enough to know I’m in the safest of hands,” he affirmed, “I just don’t want to get in your way. Do the photos look good?”

“Oh, yeah, they’re perfect. All you need to do is distract Parks and I know exactly where I need to go,” Sharon slipped her arms into the outstretched garment, shrugging it over her shoulders and gently tugging her hair out from underneath it. “Tell Redwing I said thanks.”

“I will,” Sam replied after a small pause, “So we’re in, we talk to the party guests for a bit, you go download the files, and we’re out. Pretty straightforward apart from the fact that our ride isn’t coming until tomorrow morning.”

“So unlike Maria to not come pick up her friends after a party, but what can you do?” Sharon joked, “I think we’ll be OK to spend the night in our luxury log cabin.”

“I can always take the floor,” Sam said.

“We can talk about that later. Let me give you your comm.” Sharon’s purse didn’t have room for much besides her lipstick and some cash, but the communication devices - one of which she handed to Sam - barely took up any space at all. “Is there anything else we need to go over?”

“I don’t think so. I’m glad we have these,” Sam admitted, then something seemed to occur to him, “Oh, I was going to ask you about ground rules. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable, but I know we’re supposed to be married...I guess I don’t know how this usually works.”

“When we’re in the field pretending to be a couple we tend not to go overboard on public displays of affection unless the intention is to make someone else feel uncomfortable. Honestly, though, I wouldn’t worry too much about it. I trust you.” Sharon exchanged a small smile with him, and was glad to see he looked a little relieved.

“Alright, then, Mrs. Dixon. Let’s go.” Sam offered up his arm, which Sharon took as they made their way down the wooden staircase to the living room. “This is some really weird rich people shit, you know. What kind of person owns what looks like an English mansion in upstate New York and makes his friends hire out nearby log cabins with no cellphone service just to attend his party?”

Sharon laughed, partly because it sounded a lot like something Tony Stark might do. “I’m glad you got that off your chest,” she commented, “And you’re right. Unfortunately, tonight I think we’re going to have to deal with a lot of rich people shit.”

“Name?” The man at the entrance to the mansion was dressed as a butler and peering at Sam as if he was a curiosity, which gave Sharon a strong urge to kick him in the face with one of her high heels.

“Dixon. Sean Dixon,” Sam told him with a confidence that meant Sharon didn’t have to force a smile. She gave his arm an affectionate squeeze, having kept her own wrapped around it for most of the drive over.

“Ah, yes, and you must be the lovely Cherie Dixon.” The butler pronounced her name with a perfect French accent, so Sharon naturally had to correct him.

“Oh, it’s ‘Sherry’, but believe me, if I could say it your way I would,” she declared. The giggle she gave along with her words was fake but well-practiced, unlike the smile the butler gave her in return which was simply fake.

“If you would be so kind as to step into our testing area,” the butler instructed them.

Sharon gave a small nod which Sam mirrored, and the two of them made their way inside. Out of the corner of her eye, Sharon noticed that their ride - a chauffeured limousine that had been provided by the owner of the mansion - was still waiting in the extended driveway. She wondered what instructions the chauffeur had been given should she and/or Sam turn out to be mutants.

They had both been briefed early on that the party had a strict policy against mutants attending. It wasn’t a particularly new development; there were many, particularly those in power, who didn’t like that mutants could often hide in plain sight unlike most of the Avengers. What wasn’t clear, however, was how such policies were being enforced, and that was one of the things she and Sam had been tasked with finding out.

“Please give me your left index finger.” Sharon had been ushered along with Sam through the first door on the left, where a line of men and women dressed as old-fashioned footmen and maids were holding anachronistic devices that were roughly the same shape as a large calculator. She glanced at Sam, who just barely raised his eyebrows, then turned to the woman who had addressed her.

“Here you go,” she said, letting go of her companion’s arm to present her left hand to what she assumed was a lab technician-turned-maid. The woman clearly didn’t have much in the way of bedside manner, as she pricked Sharon’s finger with a needle without so much as a warning. She then instructed her to press the small drop of blood to a pad on the device she was holding, where a bright light shone behind Sharon’s finger before she received a reading.

“NO X-GENE DETECTED,” the screen flashed.

“Is that good?” Sharon asked, her eyes wide.

The woman who had tested her all but rolled her eyes. “Yeah. That’s good,” she said, then turning to Sam, “You’re up next.”

Sharon’s eyes darted around to the other would-be house staff while Sam was similarly tested for his lack of a mutant gene. The devices they were using were unfamiliar to her, and she could almost make out a logo on the back of them but not quite. For now, she just made a mental note to try to steal one of the devices before they left the mansion for the night.

“NO X-GENE DETECTED,” the screen flashed again, and Sam was also cleared to go out the door and back into the foyer.

“I feel like she drew way more blood than she needed to,” Sharon remarked, shaking her head. The needle prick didn’t really bother her at all and she’d had far worse injuries in the field, but Sam had been very quiet so far and it was starting to unnerve her how differently he was acting compared to his usual self. She hoped that she might be able to help him relax by drawing him into a conversation.

“Oh, yeah?” Sam’s response wasn’t very encouraging but he did offer her his hand, which she took.

“Maybe she was just jealous,” Sharon mused playfully. Sam had taken her hand in both of his and gently turned it over. “What are you doing?”

“Just surveying the damage,” Sam said with a hint of a smile, “You think she was jealous of your ring?”

Sharon had managed to almost forget about the 2 carat, heart-shaped engagement ring and matching wedding ring on her left finger. Sam clearly hadn’t, though, and she was glad he seemed to be settling into his role. “I think she was jealous of my gorgeous husband,” she replied, “You do look very good in that suit, baby.”

“Well, you look good in pretty much everything, baby,” Sam replied. Something about the way he was looking at her took Sharon off guard, and she was surprised to feel the back of her neck grow hot. Sam was apparently a better actor than she had given him credit for.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice coming out quieter than she intended at first. She cleared her throat and then added: “You’ve always known how to compliment a girl.”

“Isn’t that why you married me?” Sam teased. He let go of her hand and offered his arm to her again.

“One of many reasons,” Sharon replied with a grin. She accepted his offer and then nodded towards an open doorway that led into what appeared to be the living room. “Everyone seems to be heading in there and it looks like they have drinks, so I vote we go check my coat and then we follow,” she suggested.

“Lead the way, Cherie.” Sam managed a pretty decent impersonation of the butler from earlier, and Sharon laughed.

“Shut up.”

“Sher-ee.”

“Sher-ee,” Sharon repeated, butchering the French guttural ‘R’ sound as if she hadn’t had plenty of practice speaking French in her line of work.

“Eh, close enough.” The woman seated in a small, cream-colored armchair across from Sharon and Sam shrugged her shoulders with a smile, tossing her shoulder-length blonde bob. Sharon didn’t know too much about her yet but she did know that her name was Marie, she seemed to speak better French than Sharon did even when she wasn’t pretending, and - most importantly - she was their ticket to the person they were looking for. She seemed younger than Sharon, maybe twenty at most, and eager to make conversation. Sharon had spotted her chatting with the host of the party earlier, and all they needed to do now was get her to lead them to him.

“Didn’t you tell me your name means ‘darling’?” Sam asked, glancing at Sharon. They were sitting on a powder blue couch, his arm resting gently around her shoulders.

Sharon all but batted her eyelashes. “That’s what my mom always said.”

“Yes, she was correct,” Marie said enthusiastically, “From chérir, to cherish.”

“Like the Madonna song,” Sharon joked. Sam chuckled, but Marie’s blank expression suggested to Sharon she’d been right about the other woman’s age.

“Clearly your mother chose well,” Marie continued, “You make a wonderful couple.”

“Thank you. I feel like I can barely remember what life was like before Sean,” Sharon said, all smiles, “We’re a good team. He makes up for all the things I’m missing.”

“Come on, baby, there isn’t anything you’re missing,” Sam insisted.

“It’s OK, I know I’m not the smartest cookie in the cookie jar,” Sharon retorted, “But you, on the other hand...I’m telling you, Marie, you’re looking at the world’s next Tony Stark.”

“My wife likes to brag about me,” Sam told Marie, “I also love to hear it, though, so it all works out.”

“So you are interested in technology?” Marie asked.

“I’m working on starting up my own tech company,” Sam explained, “Cherie’s father is an investor and I’m looking for a few more.”

“In that case, you should definitely talk to Arthur if you haven’t yet. I know he’s always looking for new collaborators,” Marie said, “You know the mutant detectors that scanned your blood when you first arrived?”

“So that’s what they were?” Sharon mused out loud.

“Wait, did Parks provide the lasers they use in those?” Sam piped up.

Marie grinned. “Yes. He and Trask are hoping they’ll be able to make them available to the mass market soon.”

“That’s impressive,” Sam said with a nod, “Do you work with him?”

“Oh, no.” Despite Marie’s reply, Sharon could tell she was flattered by the notion that she might be involved in Arthur Parks’s company. Nice going, Sam. “I’ve just known him since I was very young. Arthur’s wife, Lucy, knew my father and when I was growing up he wasn’t around very much...the Parks practically raised me.”

“Well, clearly you’ve picked up a lot from them. I’m around Sean all the time and I still don’t really understand his work,” Sharon said with a laugh.

“I actually had been hoping to get a chance to talk to Mr. Parks. I’ve never met him directly but from talking to friends of his I really think we’d have a lot to offer each other,” Sam affirmed.

“Then allow me to introduce you,” Marie offered, “Trust me, it would be my pleasure.”

“Alright, Sam, I’m in the study. Clear your throat if our friend is suitably distracted.”

Sharon soon heard Sam’s subtle assurance over her comm, although she almost didn’t need it because she could also hear Arthur Parks droning on in the background. She felt relieved that she had only had to stand next to Sam and pretend to be interested in the man’s work for a relatively short time before, as she had expected him to, Parks had invited ‘Sean’ to join him and a couple of other men for a cigar. Sharon had then spent a few minutes in Marie’s company before excusing herself to use the powder room. Her companion had offered to go with her, but Sharon had managed to convince her that she needed some privacy when she implied that she might be taking a pregnancy test.

“I’ll be as fast as I can and keep you updated. Sorry this has to be a one-way conversation,” Sharon told Sam.

When she thought about it, there were quite a few things she felt as though she wanted to apologize to Sam for. This wasn’t supposed to be his mission in the first place, for one. The original plan had been for Steve to accompany her, until the discovery that more than a few guests at the party had ties to HYDRA had made it impossible for Steve to go incognito. Sam had the technical expertise to both help in the field and impress Parks, so he had been the natural choice. The world of espionage was far from Sam’s natural environment, though, and even though he’d been doing well so far, Sharon felt a sense of responsibility in making sure nothing happened to him. That feeling was coupled with a decent-sized amount of guilt that she would actually rather be on a mission with Sam than Steve at the moment.

“I’ve got to admit I’m a little envious of you, Dixon. It sounds like your story’s just starting and you have a world of opportunities ahead of you. I remember when it felt that way for me.”

Sharon rolled her eyes as she took her lipstick out of her purse and popped a concealed flash drive out of the bottom of it. She had little to no sympathy for the plight of someone like Arthur Parks.

“I do feel very lucky,” Sharon heard Sam’s voice say, “Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ve definitely had to hustle, but the hustle was worth it.”

“Hacking in now,” she informed Sam quietly, the flash drive now inserted into Parks’s personal laptop.

“Mmmm, and I’m sure having a rich wife can’t have hurt. I wasn’t so lucky.”

Arthur Parks’s use of the word ‘wasn’t’ gave Sharon pause. They hadn’t been given any intel on his marriage having recently fallen apart, although it was a little odd that his wife Lucy didn’t seem to be in attendance at the party.

“A word of advice, Dixon, although it’s probably too late,” Parks continued unprompted, “Always sign a prenup.”

Sam gave what sounded like a slightly nervous laugh. “I don’t think I need to worry about my wife.” Sharon was about to tell him not to be afraid to throw his wife under the metaphorical bus if he needed to, but a third person with an English accent spoke up before she had a chance.

“I think this one’s a lost cause, Arthur.” Sharon had heard the man introduce himself as Jonathan Wilson a little bit earlier. “You and your wife seem very much in love.”

“I really think it’d be hard not to fall in love with Cher,” Sam declared. Sharon noticed his ‘Cher’ sounded a little close to ‘Shar’, but hopefully nobody else would pick up on it. “I mean, you’ve all seen how beautiful she is but on top of that she’s so...brave, and talented, and just so competent…”

Sharon couldn’t help the smile that crossed her features for a moment, even if it quickly vanished as she realized she was listening to a bout of silence. Either something had gone wrong with the comms or Sam had paused awkwardly mid-sentence and although the latter was preferable, it still wasn’t ideal.

“...at making me happy, you know what I’m saying?” Sharon heard a few ripples of laughter following Sam’s joke, and she breathed an inaudible sigh of relief.

“Nice recovery,” she told him, “Alright, I’m in. Just keep doing your thing, but maybe don’t lean into the doting husband role too much. I don’t see so much as a picture of Athur’s wife in his study and it sounds like things got ugly.”

The conversation took more of a business slant again and Sharon was able to relax ever so slightly, continuing to listen while she went through the files on Arthur Parks’s laptop. She had always found it a little ironic that the objective of any given mission, like this, tended to be the easiest part. Getting in and getting out were usually the parts that you had to worry about.

“Looks like the intel we got was solid. Parks is definitely trying to build himself some kind of team, but I think SHIELD will have to dig deeper to find out what for,” Sharon informed Sam, “I’m copying the list of contacts and his correspondence. Lots of familiar names here, several associated with HYDRA...and Georges Batroc. Interesting.”

“Anyway, I’m sure you’re tired of listening to me by now. Maybe I can get my laptop and show you some photos of all the places Parks lasers have been used. Who knows, I might even give you some ideas about where they haven’t.”

Sharon stiffened as she glanced at the progress bar in the corner of the computer screen. “I’m not done,” she said after hearing Arthur Parks’s words, “Sam, can you stall him?”

“I...think I already have some ideas, actually,” Sharon heard Sam say, “Marie mentioned you were interested in music, and I…”

“Marie thinks she knows a lot more than she actually does,” Parks interrupted, “My wife is the music lover. Not that her taste in music is any good.”

“Marie’s just a kid,” Sam noted softly, “They always think they know a lot.”

“Not that much of a kid.” Arthur Parks’s voice was quieter than before and Sharon was having a hard time hearing him. “It’d be nice if she acted like more of an adult every once in a while.”

“Almost there,” Sharon said to Sam. Her fingers were hovering over the flash drive, ready to retrieve it the moment it was finished copying the files. “Just keep him talking.”

“Well, she has nothing but nice things to say about you and your wife, so it seems like you taught her something,” Sam said, managing to keep his tone jovial, “She said you practically raised her?”

“You seem to be very interested in Marie,” Parks commented. Sharon thought she might have heard the sound of a clinking glass. “Wilson?”

“Yeah?” Sam answered at the exact same time as another voice that Sharon presumed belonged to Jonathan Wilson did.

Shit. Sharon watched the progress bar creep towards the end far too slowly for her taste as Arthur Parks offered Jonathan Wilson a drink.

“Sorry. I thought you said Dixon,” Sam said sheepishly.

“Well, I was also going to ask you a different question,” Parks said, “You a Scotch drinker?”

“Sometimes,” Sam answered.

“Sometimes,” Parks echoed with a chuckle, “Where are you from again?”

“New York,” Sam replied, “City. The City. Harlem.” He clearly remembered his cover story but seemed to be having trouble keeping his nerves under control.

“Right, right.”

“Got it,” Sharon declared, “I’m going to close up here and I’ll come knock on the door looking for you.”

“There’s something about your accent, though…” she heard Parks muse while she stowed the flash drive away back in her lipstick tube, “Sometimes it sounds a little off to me.”

“I can’t pick up on anything...but then, I don’t suppose I’d be able to,” Jonathan Wilson commented with a chortle.

Sharon stood up after closing Parks’s laptop, making sure it looked just as it did when she had first found it. She felt as though she could practically hear Sam’s heart beating faster, or perhaps it was just her own. “Hey, don’t be afraid to change your backstory a little if you need to,” she encouraged him, “The easiest lies to tell are the ones with a bit of truth.”

“How did you know?” Sam said, feigning being impressed, “My dad is from Louisiana. I don’t even notice it most of the time but Cher tells me sometimes the occasional word slips out.”

Sharon smiled to herself. The door to the study was closed behind her and from there it was only a quick trip across the hallway to where she needed to be. Granted, it was quite a large hallway.

“I knew it,” Parks declared, “I’ve been to Louisiana a couple of times. New Orleans is a great…”

Sharon knocked loudly at the door. When Arthur Parks pulled it open, he was greeted with the sight of her with her hair slightly dishevelled and grinning from ear to ear.

“Can I help you, Mrs. Dixon?” he asked.

“I just thought I’d stop by to rescue my husband,” Sharon answered.

It was getting in and getting out that you had to worry about. Getting to the party had required a lot of planning, from SHIELD providing Sharon and Sam with aliases and a mission briefing to their conversations on the flight to New York. During that time they had also planned how they’d be getting out, but that plan hinged on everyone perceiving them as nothing more than party guests. To that end, what they couldn’t do was leave the party at the nearest opportunity. Rather than make more small talk, Sharon had suggested they head to the ballroom and she didn’t think she’d ever seen Sam look more relieved.

“So do you think I thoroughly destroyed your chances at entering into a business deal with Arthur Parks?” Sharon wondered playfully. She had to lean in close to him to be heard over the music, but that was easy to do when they were dancing.

“Oh, I think those chances are pretty much roadkill by now,” Sam replied, making her chuckle, “That’s alright. I think if I’d had to listen to him for another half hour I’d have lost my mind.”

“I wouldn’t blame you. It’s his loss, at any rate.”

“Sure is. For a successful businessman, he seems pretty good at losing things.” Sam lifted his arm and gently twirled her around while she barely hid a grin.

“You can spin me more than that,” she said, “I used to be a figure skater, you know.”

“Wait, really?” Sam closed the small distance between them as the song changed to one with a slower tempo, his hands coming to her waist.

“Oh, yeah. My mom taught me to ice skate when I was a kid,” Sharon explained, “Have you ever tried it?”

“No, I haven’t, but I always thought it looked fun,” Sam replied, “I guess it’s probably a bit like flying.”

“Well, I’ve never flown, but to me it feels a lot like flying.” Sharon let her arms rest around Sam’s shoulders almost without thinking about it. “I’m a little out of practice, but I still go sometimes. I’ll take you - maybe before rather than after we go to a bar for that daiquiri.”

Sam seemed to like that idea if his grin was any indication. “You’ve got yourself a deal.” He glanced over his shoulder momentarily and then leant in so that he could lower his voice even more, speaking softly close to her ear. “You just need to go on a few more ops with me if you ever want to try flying.”

Sharon was surprised not by Sam’s gesture but her own reaction to it. She’d seen him harmlessly flirt with other people before, especially Natasha, and she enjoyed flirting herself when the occasion called for it. The unusual part was feeling her neck grow hot and letting her gaze linger on his lips when he pulled back. “I’d like that,” she admitted, “You’re a good partner.”

Sam smiled again.

Sharon swiftly decided that she should keep talking, mostly because she wasn’t sure what she’d do if she didn’t. “Hopefully next time you’ll get to have a little more fun,” she told him.

“Hey, I’m having fun,” Sam insisted, to which Sharon raised her eyebrows. “I am now, at least.” Sharon laughed. “I do wish the music was a little better.”

“Mmm, some Marvin Gaye, maybe?” Sharon suggested.

“For starters,” Sam replied, a hint of suspicion in his smile.

“You know who probably would’ve picked better music?” Sharon said. She was struggling to keep a straight face before the punchline of her own joke, which she decided to attribute to a combination of both the high and relief from having completed a large part of their mission. “Arthur Parks’s wife,” she just about managed to get out before she burst into laughter, hiding her face in Sam’s shoulder. She heard him laughing as well, which only made it more difficult for her to compose herself, but at least she figured the other party guests wouldn’t think much of it.

“You’re a great partner,” Sam declared, then adding, “We’re good to stay here for the rest of the party, right?”

Sharon nodded, pressing her lips together to suppress any remnants of her giggles. “I did just tell you that I’m pregnant, after all.” Sam’s eyes widened almost comically for a moment before he seemed to remember the excuse Sharon had used to get rid of Marie.

“Of course,” Sam joined in, “We can name the kid Laser.”

Sharon had to cover her mouth with one of her hands to muffle a guffaw.

“Hey, Shar? Can we talk?”

Somehow, Sharon had a feeling Sam didn’t want to talk about the mission, which had gone remarkably smoothly, all things considered. The intel they needed was stored on the flash drive in Sharon’s purse, which was sitting on the nightstand next to something else they had also managed to bring back. Just before they left the mansion, they had returned to the testing room with an excuse about Sharon having misplaced her wedding ring. While Sam distracted the woman who had tested Sharon earlier, Sharon had managed to grab one of the mutant detectors and the staff seemed none the wiser. The only real concern now was the fact that they had to spend the rest of the night in their cabin, which meant if Arthur Parks or anyone else did suspect them, they would know where to find them. Sam was aware of all of that, though, and she would be very surprised if he wanted to go over what to do if they caught a glimpse of someone staring at them through the window.

“Sure,” she replied, her eyes still on the ceiling. She let out a small exhale before she rolled over onto her side to face Sam, barely able to make out his expression in the darkness. “Is everything OK?”

“Yeah. I just...I’m not even sure I should be saying anything, but...y’know, aside from almost forgetting New York was both a state and a city and being called ‘entertaining’ by some weird British folks, I actually had a really good time tonight.”

Sharon couldn’t help a small smile. “I kind of meant it when I told Marie we made a good team.”

“Did you mean it when you said we should go ice skating and then for drinks?” That question caught Sharon off guard, particularly in how hopeful Sam sounded when he said it. “It’s OK if you didn’t,” he added quickly, before she had a chance to respond, “We’ve known each other for a while, but we’ve never…” Sam paused. “Tonight, when we were dancing, I just felt like…”

“I felt it, too,” Sharon said quietly.

“OK.” She was starting to be able to see his face better as her eyes continued to adjust to the light, and she realized a smile was slowly spreading across it. “OK,” he repeated with a nod, “I’m kind of getting the feeling there’s a ‘but’ coming, though.”

“There’s a ‘but’,” Sharon admitted. His delight at the notion that they both felt similarly was already making her reconsider what she was about to say, but she wanted to be honest with him. “I’m not ready, Sam.”

“Ah. There it is,” Sam said. His grin vanished, as she expected, and he gave a small nod. “I understand. You did break up with Captain America. That had to have been pretty crazy.”

“Or, as my extended family likes to tell me, I’m the crazy one.” Sharon flashed a humorless smile. “I don’t...I’m not in love with Steve anymore, but that breakup wasn’t easy. It wasn’t even anyone’s fault, really, it was just...well, I’m sure the last thing you want to hear is gossip about your best friend.”

“I did just kind of admit to having a crush on my best friend’s ex-girlfriend, though,” Sam noted.

“I guess you did.” Sharon’s smile was genuine this time. “God, I wish we’d figured this out sooner.”

“I’ll take some of the blame for that. I was too busy staring at redheads.”

“And I was too busy thinking if I stuck around long enough Steve might fall in love with me.”

“Shar…” Sam’s voice was soft, and Sharon suddenly felt like she might have said too much.

“If you were just a hot stranger this would be a whole lot easier,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, I think,” Sam teased back, “It’s OK, Sharon. Sometimes the timing just isn’t right.”

“I just meant that if it was someone I didn’t really care about, maybe I’d go on a date or two and it wouldn’t end well but it wouldn’t be a big deal. If it was you, though...I wouldn’t want to mess it up.”

“If it was you, I wouldn’t want to mess it up, either.” Sharon’s breath caught in her throat. “Can I...can I ask you a favor, though? If you do feel like you’re ready someday, and assuming you haven’t met anyone even hotter, can you let me know?”

“What if you’re dating Natasha Romanoff by then?” Sharon asked, not entirely unseriously.

“In that case I would like everyone to please give us as much privacy as possible,” Sam replied with a smirk.

“Wow, OK. She’s really your type?”

“Are you jealous, Shaz?”

Sharon couldn’t help but laugh. “Maybe a little. Is that OK?”

“Yeah. That’s OK.” Sam’s eyes had what could only be described as a twinkle in them. “You still haven’t answered me.”

“You’ll be the first to know.”

#SamSharon #Sharon x Sam #Sam x Sharon #Sam Wilson #Sharon Carter #MCU #Marvel #One Shots #Shasam

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the-lady-of-stars · 4 years

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Wishing you were somehow here again - part 1

Commander Wolffe x Jedi ! Reader

Summary: Wolffe loves you, his Jedi, more than anything. Nothing could ever come between your hearts. Or at least that’s what you believed up until he was commanded to kill you under Order 66.

A/N: Unfortunately for you all I have returned, once again inspired to write more heartbreaking angst for Wolffe. Luckily for you, however, this first chapter will exclusively be fluff. Kudos for anyone who knows what the title is a reference to. Enjoy my lovelies ;)

You had always thought that Wolffe looked most handsome under the light of the moon. The way the silver glow framed his face made him out to be some ethereal being sent from the stars themselves.

From where you lay next to him on the grassy hill you could just about see the blissed out smile that graced his features. He had brought you out here away from camp to bask in the beauty of the night with him, and there you were, fingers clasped with his as his thumb stroked tender circles on your palm, grounding you in the moment. His eyes were gazing up at the vast expanse space above you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to peel your sight from him. Sensing your lingering stare, Wolffe turned his head to you, smile broadening at how enamoured his beloved looked.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours, hmm cyar’ika?” he coaxed sweetly, squeezing your hand.

“I really love you, Wolffe,” you spoke softly, not daring to break the pure serenity of the moment.

He huffed in loving amusement, rolling onto his side to look down at you with fond eyes.

“And I love you, my starlight. But what’s brought this on? You goin’ all soft on me, General?”

“Can’t help it, Commander. ‘S all your fault. Might just have to court martial you for it,” you mused.

“Court martial! And what exactly would the reasoning for this court martial be, might I ask?”

“Mm, well, quite a few things actually. For starters I’d accuse you of making your Jedi General fall hopelessly in love with you- that’s the most important one.” Wolffe grinned down at you as you spoke. “Next I’d accuse you of distracting your General from patrol and making her stargaze with you instead. Also important. Finally I might accuse you of having brought me here over an hour ago yet not having so much as kissed me on the cheek even once, although that can be rectified before it’s too late.”

Wolffe let out a genuine laugh before leaning down closer to you, putting his weight on his forearms, obscuring most of your vision but leaving a slight backdrop of the blinking stars surrounding him.

“Ah well, in that case I suppose I had better make a start. You have my sincerest apologies, Mesh’la.”

“I might find it in me to forgive you, but you’ll have to make it up to me first.”

“Yeah?” he cooed.

“Mmhmm. Real nice.”

“I think I can do that.”

He began with a gentle kiss to your jaw, rising up your face to your cheeks, brows, forehead and nose, spoiling every inch of you in the loving way he thought you deserved. He muttered compliments and praise in between kisses, soothing you with his whispers of “sweet girl,” “so beautiful,” and “so good for me.” You both sighed in harmony as he finally closed the remaining distance to meet your lips, locking them against yours. Your noses pressed together, eyelids fluttering at the sheer intimacy of the moment.

When you eventually separated from each other, you remained with your foreheads touching, both panting to reclaim the breath you had stolen from the other. You remained there, silence unbroken for minutes, just enjoying the moment.

Wolffe was the one to break the stillness, pushing himself off of you to lean on his side again, eyes wandering over your face in thought.

“What is it?” you spoke serenely, surveying his expression. He appeared to be deep in thought, although what about you couldn’t tell.

“Do you remember when we first met?” he spoke up after a few more moments of thinking.

“Of course, how could I forget?”

“We all knew that General Plo had trained a padawan to knighthood but we’d never actually met you. I remember on one campaign to some planet in the outer-rim we were resting for the night and Wildfire asked the General to tell us a story to pass the time. That was the first time he told us about you. Told us how you’d taken out an entire squadron of clankers all on your own and without your saber. I’ll admit I fell a little bit in love with you right then. The more he told us about you the more I wanted to meet you. That night I couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t stop thinking about what you might have looked like. I lay there picturing your face, wondering things like what colour your eyes might be. If there’s one thing I guessed right it was that your eyes would definitely be striking, had to be to match the personality that went with them. So in some way I suppose you could say I was in love with you before I had even met you. I’ve heard Master Plo saying before that the force can bring people together. I don’t know if that’s real or not, I’m no Jedi, but I like to believe that we were meant to find each other, you know?

“Wolffe, you’ve never told me any of this before,” your eyes were glued to his lips as he spoke, captivated by his words.

“I was always too embarassed to tell you. Honestly I’m surprised the boys didn’t get to blabbin’ about it to you before now. And the first time I actually met you? Stars. If you ask the boys they’ll tell you that I looked hypnotised. According to Sinker my mouth was wide open like I’d been hit straight on by a gunship. Nothing I’d imagined before could even compare to how beautiful you were. If I wasn’t in love with you before that then I definitely was then. My vode still haven’t stop teasing me for that one. But you wanna know when I was sure you were the one for me? You remember that time I got injured on Naboo after that clanker we didn’t notice hit me good in the knee?”

You winced, the memory still fresh in your mind. “I still have nightmares about that sometimes. Thought I was going to lose you, and even though I hadn’t known you all that long I realised then that I couldn’t bare to live without you.”

Wolffe took one of your hands in his, pressing a reassuring kiss to your knuckles in comfort then moving to play with your fingers absent-mindedly as he continued to speak.

“And that’s why I fell for you. You looked after me all day and night, even while I slept, making sure I was clean, hydrated, comfortable and not in any pain. You cared for me so selflessly. When I woke up and saw that you had fallen asleep next to me in exhaustion I wanted nothing more than to show you just how appreciated you were. But I just couldn’t find the words no matter how hard I tried.” He looked into your eyes, noticing how they had glazed over slightly from how close you were to tears.

“I know. I felt your emotions through the force. No one had ever felt that strongly for me in my life. Which is why I kissed you when you woke. Couldn’t find the right words either,” you smiled at him, lips trembling with emotion.

“You’ll never know how often I think of that kiss. Think I nearly passed out again when it happened, my heart was racing so fast. You had me absolutely doll dizzy. But you know what the funny thing is? You’d think that I’d have become more used to it by now, you kiss me at every chance you get, but I haven’t. Every single time you kiss me I feel that same way I did the first time. You’ve got me good, sweetheart. Point is- I don’t ever want to stop feeling that way. I want to be able to lean over and kiss you for the rest of my life. So, Y/N, I’ve been thinking about this for a while now and I’ve decided. I want to marry you.”

“What?” you gasped, heart pounding against your chest.

“I know it technically won’t be a legal marriage seeing as I’m a clone and you’re a Jedi, but that doesn’t matter to me. We don’t need paperwork to prove our love for each other. I want you to be my wife. My wife who I can spend every day of the rest of my life spoiling in the way she deserves. So, what do you say? Y/N Y/L/N, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

Both of you now had tears streaming freely, a sob catching in your throat as you went to reply.

“Yes,” you choked out. “Yes, Wolffe, I would love to marry you.”

The two of you were crying your hearts out, smiles pulling at your cheeks so brightly that it was nearly painful. Wolffe wasted no more time before standing up and pulling you to your feet then into his arms, picking you up to spin you in pure unbreakable joy.

He set you down and instantly brought your lips together, giving him a new most passionate kiss to think about for the rest of his life.

“I love you,” he laughed through his tears. “I love you so much!”

“I love you too. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Wolffe paused for a second, visibly thinking before kneeling down to the grass.

“What are you doing?” you asked, but he was too distracted with what ever he was doing to reply.

You watched as he plucked a long blade of grass out of the soil forming a loop with it then tying it off so it was shaped like a circle.

“A ring. I’m sorry I can’t get you a pretty one straight away, so this will have to suffice for now, but one day, after the war, I swear to you I will buy you the most beautiful ring I can.”

Wolffe took your left hand delicately in his, sliding his grass ring onto your fourth finger. You once again sobbed at his actions, throwing yourself into his chest and tucking your head under his chin.

“Wolffe, it’s perfect. I don’t need a fancy ring, I only want you. And if you think I’m not treasuring this ring made from the grass of the hill you proposed to me on for the rest of my life then you don’t know me like I thought you did.”

He laughed, a wide grin settling on his face as he pulled you tight against him, rocking you in a slow dance as you both tried to stop crying.

Absolutely nothing could tear the two of you apart. Or at least, that’s what you believed. Palpatine, you would soon discover, thought otherwise.

#commander wolffe x reader #clone wars imagine #clone wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars x reader #clone x reader #clone imagine

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thecagedsong · 3 years

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Forgotten Light: Chapter 11: Bonding

A/N Eight days until doomsday for me. Enjoy this. Mostly character building. Probably longer than it should be, but I think this is the most time they spend together the whole story. It had to happen somewhere.

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11

Chapter 11: Bonding

Kendra woke to someone picking her up gently.

“Shh, you fell asleep. I’m just taking you to your bed so you don’t wake up sore.” Ronodin said as she blinked her eyes open. She was cradled securely in his arms.

“No, I can walk,” Kendra insisted, starting to wiggle free.

“You’re so stubborn, just go back to sleep,” he encouraged gripping her tighter.

“Put me down,” she demanded.

Ronodin smiled cheekily, “What if I like holding my fiancée? Putting her down sounds like a favor.”

Kendra flushed and folded her arms, looking away from him. As much as she didn’t want to be carried, she didn’t want any part of Ronodin’s favors either. She wanted to protest more, but there wasn’t a point, he was too strong and wasn’t letting go of her.

Unless…Kendra rapidly unclenched the mental fist she had over her brightness. Ronodin stumbled and dropped her on her rump.

“You did that to yourself,” Ronodin said.

“I would have been standing on my own if someone had let me go when I asked,” she said, standing up and stretching. “Good thing I put carpets in this place.” Because it was impolite to blind people, she dimmed her light once again, pulling back the showcase of her magic. She felt a pang inside, like a muscle that didn’t want to flex, but she did it anyway, and the feeling disappeared.

“I’m guessing you don’t feel tired anymore?”

Kendra shook her head, “That was a good wakeup call. How did your errand go?”

“It went —what is that thing you’re wearing?” he asked. The look of horror she had been imagining was better than she imagined. His nose scrunched!

“I don’t like my wardrobe,” she declared, “I wanted to be more covered up and add a bit of color. Do you like it?”

He went deadpan, “So, I’m guessing your sewing skills were forgotten along with everything else.”

“Yep,” she said, leading the way to the kitchen, “So now you have to take me shopping. In fact, I’ve decided you aren’t leaving again without me. I tried to draw the outside today, and I couldn’t. I haven’t seen the sky, or the sun, or the ocean, or the stars in my entire life. That needs to change, now.”

“All I hear is another favor,” he teased.

“Ronodin,” she warned, looking over her shoulder.

“Then I guess we’re just going to have to stay put a little longer.”

Kendra turned at the kitchen doorway and folded her arms, “Leaving this place is only a favor if I’m a prisoner. I know you’re trying to protect me, but I refuse to believe that out of everywhere in the world I could have hidden, I chose the one place that I would never breath fresh air.”

Ronodin studied her before sighing and massaging his forehead, “I wasn’t going to tell you this, but I couldn’t do what our host wanted. Your brother got in the way. He’s tracking me, trying to find you. I must have let too much of our relationship slip after you lost your memory. Out of everyone in your family, he’s the only one blaming me for your kidnapping. The rest are blaming your family’s usual enemies: dragons, sphinxes, and demons. It’s not only dangerous for you to go out, but I’m going to have to lay low for a while as well.”

“I’m not budging on this,” Kendra said forcing her chin up. “You will not leave me trapped in here again. It’s a prison cell, a nice one, but you said we bonded over the fact that my family was imprisoning innocent creatures. Why am I different than them?”

“It isn’t a prison,” Ronodin said, “For two reasons. One, you volunteered to come here. Two, it’s temporary. Like…quarantine. You just need to be kept apart from the world for a little while, and then you’ll get released and everything will be fine.”

“And when will the quarantine be over?” she asked.

“I’m working on faking your death,” Ronodin admitted, “Once we’re sure everyone believes you’re dead, we’ll be able to get out of here,” he snapped his fingers, “An idea. I’ll negotiate with you. We can also go out, once you craft an item strong enough to protect yourself.”

That reminded her. Her hand went to her neck, but she only felt the ruby pendant. She pulled the amulet forward, where it had fallen down her back.

“Like this?” Kendra asked. “I looked through the books for something protection based, but the closest thing was making your enemies weaken so you can escape.”

Ronodin took it into his hand, “Hmm, it’s very beginner. You really are back to the start. It’s a good start, certainly better than that nonsense sweater you’re wearing. Make something with this effect, but a hundred times stronger, and we can go anywhere you like.”

“Great,” she grumbled, taking the amulet back, then taking it off and tossing it on the counter. “It’s not doing anything, why bother?”

“It’s not doing anything because I’m not your enemy,” Ronodin teased. “You keyed it into those who wish to harm you in the immediate vicinity. That’s an extremely vague idea of enemies.”

“How should I define enemies?” Kendra asked.

Ronodin smiled, “Anyone who prevents you from achieving your goal.”

“And if my goal is to go outside?”

His smiled turned sharper, somehow more genuine and far more dangerous, “Make something you can wear that will disable me, then we can talk.”

“Break the kneecaps, got it.”

Ronodin laughed. Kendra glared.

“Keep laughing like that and I won’t wait to create a magical object to do it for me,” she threatened. “You literally asked for it.”

“No, it’s nothing,” Ronodin gave a half smile, “But we really are back to square one. It seems you really do use threats of violence as flirting at the start of every courtship.”

“Must be difficult for you, since as far as I know, that’s also how I start off all relationships with my mortal enemies,” she said, getting up and making tea. He was being ridiculous again, the only thing to do was walk away.

“You are quite the trial,” Ronodin said, quietly, and her ears strained to pick it up, “But worth every second of it.”

When the kettle rang, he got up and made his own tea. On the one hand, she was glad he didn’t expect her to serve him, on the other hand, the kitchen was small. They kept brushing hands and sides, and there wasn’t really anything Kendra could do. His hands settled on her hips to move her aside, and she jumped.

“Just getting the honey,” he said innocently. She glared, and he held up his hands, “I’m done messing with you for now. I saw you were reading a different book in the library, what was this one about?”

“Well, the library is rather limited,” Kendra said, settling back with her tea. “I can’t read most of the books. But while the first one was about the Fair Folk, this one is an autobiography of a woman hiding her life as a shadow charmer from her husband and children. I only got through the first couple of chapters, where she destroys wraiths with sea salt, removes the cursed talisman poisoning their village’s water, and a demon inducts her as a shadow charmer.”

“Lady Kuychia,” Ronodin said, nodding, “She convinced a High Fairy to enchant that amulet you’re wearing so that her husband could have protection while she was still learning her skills.”

“Shhush!” she said, “Don’t spoil anything.”

He then talked to her about some of her old favorite books she had forgotten to pack, and pointed out that it was Lady Kuychia’s family portrait that hung over the library fireplace.

Despite enjoying the company, she started to grow tired again.

“You better head to your room if you really don’t want me to carry you,” Ronodin said, picking up her teacup and taking it to the sink.

Kendra nodded and went to her room, motioning for Mendigo to follow her.

“Mendigo,” Kendra said, once she was in the silk robe she apparently liked to sleep in, “Don’t let Ronodin leave out the front door. Stop him and hold him until I get there. I meant it when I said I wasn’t going to be part of a cage anymore.”

Mendigo nodded.

“Go stand guard by the front door, the one I tried to have you open earlier today.”

Mendigo left, and Kendra sighed into her pillow. It wasn’t hard to understand what Old Kendra liked about Ronodin. Absolutely gorgeous, an edge of excitement, intelligence, and he’s crazy about her. But he was missing a lot of things too, respect for personal boundaries being the top of the list. Did she keep trying to find what Old Kendra had loved about him? Reclaim that part of her life that Old Kendra had valued beyond even her family?

There was a shout and some grumbling from Ronodin’s room. Wrapping herself tightly in her blanket, she pulled it free and went to her door, opening it and grinning at the irritated unicorn outside her door.

“Really hilarious,” Ronodin grumbled. He relaxed at her grin, “aside from the surprise psychic insanity attack, this was actually really well made. And pretty powerful. You might be closer to creating something to protect yourself than I thought.”

“I was pretty angry at everything when I painted it,” Kendra said, “Like I said, you aren’t allowed to leave me alone here again. I thought having this in your room would be a good reminder.”

“Not if I want to sleep without having an existential crisis and accompanying panic attack,” he said drily. “It’s covered now, and hidden. I wish you wouldn’t take it out on me when you’re the one that set it up this way.”

Kendra felt the familiar pang of guilt. She hadn’t thought the painting was that powerful. Ronodin seemed so good at magic, and she wasn’t even sure it worked. Panic attacks were serious and something she shouldn’t wish on anyone, much less her former fiancée trying to make the best of a terrible situation.

“Sorry,” she said, “I guess that was a little uncalled for. It didn’t seem that powerful to me. Why do you think I’m so much better at painting than the other things I used to craft?”

Ronodin shrugged, “Painting is a little more straightforward. You don’t have to worry about needles or knives, you were probably just able to focus better on the magic aspect than you were on your other projects. We’ll paint something together tomorrow. And you can give sewing and whittling another shot. Is there a reason Mendigo is at the front door?”

“Um, I told him to make sure no one bothered me in the night,” Kendra lied, “I guess he took that to mean guard the front door.”

“You’re lying,” Ronodin stated. “Want to try again?”

Kendra huffed, “Fine, I meant it when I said you aren’t leaving here without me again. He won’t let you leave without me, so don’t bother thinking about it.”

“Kendra,” Ronodin said, groaning, “If our host calls for me, I have to go.”

“Then I’ll go with you.”

“He doesn’t want to see you,” Ronodin shot back.

“Why not? I was fine when we negotiated this place, right?”

Ronodin shook his head, “Even when you dim yourself, your light is way to bright for him. He will either swallow your light, or you’ll make him angry. Call your puppet off.”

“No,” she said. “If I’m going to be a prisoner, so are you. I’ll wait outside the door or whatever, but I’m sick of being trapped.”

Ronodin’s face went blank, there was nothing in his eyes as he looked at her, mouth still, and Kendra drew back half a step. Ronodin took a deep breath and motion returned to his face, leaving Kendra unsure what she had just seen. “We’re both tired, and I don’t plan on being called away for a while yet. We will talk about this more later. Goodnight.”

Ronodin leaned forward, and Kendra hiked her blankets up over her mouth, glaring.

His lips pressed gently to her forehead, lingering, as she glared at him. Ronodin stepped back.

“Goodnight, my little caterpillar,” he teased, then walked back to his room.

Did other people with amnesia have this confusing a time with their boyfriends? How long before Ronodin gave up on her? Looking in the mirror, even with the sexy clothes, Kendra knew she wasn’t anywhere near the same league as Ronodin in the looks department. Did she want Ronodin to give up on her? From the sound of it, her family wanted her back, and her brother seemed like a pretty cool kid.

What did she owe a past she couldn’t remember?

The questions circled her mind like fluttering butterflies until she fell asleep.

“Okay, so what do you want to paint?” Ronodin asked.

“We can’t peek outside so I can figure out what the sky looks like?” Kendra checked. They were standing in front of their easels in the craft room.

Ronodin shook his head, “We’re laying low for the moment. We can visit a grotto after lunch, but that’s still enclosed in a cave.”

“Wait, really?” Kendra asked, beaming.

Ronodin nodded, “I’ve been thinking about it, and I think I can convince our host to let us out that far, and we’ll still be on their property, so your family won’t find us. If that’s what it takes for you to get your puppet to stand down, then we’ll do it.”

Kendra pounced on him with a hug, surprising both of them. She let go just as quickly, blushing, “Uh, thanks. Don’t read into that. I just really want to get out of here.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Ronodin said with a smirk, “How about I paint an outside landscape? I remember what your home looks like. Then at least it will be a full picture for you to put together for your next painting.”

“I’d really like that,” Kendra said. “If you’re painting something for me, how about I paint something for you? An apology for the panic attack.”

“You are being quite generous this morning, dream of anything good?” Ronodin asked, getting in her face again. “Because if we’re taking requests, and you’re firm on only being able to paint things you’ve already seen. I want you to paint us.”

“Us?” Kendra asked, eyebrows drawing together.

Ronodin nodded, taking her hand still holding the pencil. Kendra tried not to wince. Even through her protective amulet, his hands still felt cold. She wanted to pull it back, but she was trying to be nice.

“How you see me, how you see yourself,” Ronodin said, “Paint it.”

“I’ll try,” she said doubtfully. She tried to tug her hand free, but he wouldn’t let it go, “Any requests on what effect or emotion I should try to work into it?” If she had to be able to create something strong enough to protect herself, it looked like her best bet would be painting the biggest ‘do not bother me’ spell she could on the back of a jacket. Which meant she had to get good.

He pulled her hand towards his mouth, and when he spoke, his lips brushed the backs of her fingers. “Uncontrollable lust.”

“What!” she yelled, yanking her hand back.

He laughed, “Poor, innocent caterpillar.”

“That’s it, you missed your chance,” Kendra said, turning her back on him, “I’m painting Mendigo, and this painting is going to fill the viewer with the insatiable desire to strangle unicorns named Ronodin.”

She already had her magic flowing into her pencil. Threading? It was kind of like threading a needle, and drawing it through the work, and she could thicken the thread with concentration.

“Can’t wait,” Ronodin said, putting his own pencil to canvas. It didn’t feel as satisfying, knowing he approved of her project. The desire to kill seemed a little extreme anyway, and she flinched away from it remembering her actual almost murder of her kinda boyfriend. Irritation with Ronodin it was then.

She started to sketch Mendigo, but ran into the issue of creation/affect dichotomy that the book warned her about. Looking at Mendigo wouldn’t inspire anyone to be irritated with Ronodin. Glancing sideways, she decided to stick to irritation, but she would have to paint him. Half body, because with the robe it was just more interesting to be able to focus on his face and torso. Arms folded, because hands were hard to draw.

“How about some music?” Ronodin offered. “Anything you’d like?”

She focused on her canvas, “I have literally never heard music before. Play anything.”

“Very well,” he said, pulling out a cell phone. Kendra first heard the click of a camera going off, and decided against saying something. If he wanted a picture, maybe they could print it out and hang it, add a little more personality to the room. A moment later, piano notes filled the air, something a little frenzied, and the violin joined in. She didn’t dislike it, but as the first song she ever heard, she didn’t have much to compare it to.

Threading her magic through her pencil, she drew the outlines she wanted. His know-it-all smirk, perfect hair, eyes. Was it weird to use unicorn blood for the eyes and teeth? It might be his own.

No, she had to focus, she had to get good at this. The black of his robe was the hardest part, and she ended up mixing it with reds and blues to get the full effect of how Kendra saw him. His skin tone was also difficult to mix with the limited colors, but she did it. Using one of her whittling knives, she made a pretty cool effect for the scar over his eyebrow.

Surprisingly, Ronodin stayed quiet the whole time. He didn’t tease her or try to mess with her. When she had to step back to let a layer dry, or go to the bathroom, he just smirked at her. Her eyes would drift to him for reference, and he would occasionally strike a pose, but he never said anything.

Maybe this was how they had bonded the first time, painting quietly to music. It didn’t help too much in this case because she painted with a thousand irritations in her brush, but if they were ever able to do this outside her prison cell, in the open air, it would probably be a different experience. Maybe next time she could try for companionship when she painted.

She thought she’d like that painting a lot more. Luckily, irritation with her lack of skill and being stuck with only negative emotions helped feed into the current project.

By the end, it wasn’t perfect, or even particularly good. People were hard, but she liked it. His smug smile said ‘kill me’, enough for her.

“You ready for the great reveal?” Ronodin asked, turning off the music.

“Sure,” Kendra said, “You probably figured it out, but it’s a lot easier to want to kill you while looking at your stupid face.” She took her canvas and showed it to him.

Ronodin scrutinized himself through her painting. “My ears look a little misshapen, and all I’m sensing is vague irritation with myself. Have a problem with killing intent?”

“Despite various actions to the contrary,” Kendra said, “I don’t actually want to kill you. So yeah, irritation. Can I see yours now?”

“It’s not my best work,” he said, picking up his own canvas, “You wouldn’t believe how long it’s been since I painted,” so that means they didn’t bond over painting, “but I hope this helps you put together what outside looks like.”

He turned it over and showed her a castle rising above a forest. The sky was a heart wrenching blue, and there had to be forty different shades of green in the trees. A couple of deer with wings glided over the treetops, beneath a sun that was paler than she imagined, its light fell gently. Two clouds gave variety to the sky, and the castle was done in blacks and grays that blended so well together, she couldn’t begin figuring out the shades. The stones and towers, the gate, and just barely she could make out a road that vanished under distant trees, horses racing across it. Two mountains rose in the distance, and a ravine far to the right.

“It’s beautiful,” she said reverently, going closer to the picture. “It’s absolutely beautiful. You’re amazing.”

“Yes, well, I try,” he said. Kendra looked, and he seemed flustered for a moment, then smirked, “I take it you like my gift?”

“A real gift this time?” Kendra asked dubiously.

She was expecting it, and was able to turn her cheek at the last moment as he pulled her close.

He pulled back, “Never.” And let her go.

“Try again after I’m out of this prison.”

“Quarantine,” he corrected.

“What am I infected with?” Kendra countered.

He shook his head, “We’re doing this so you don’t loose the self you found and were so proud of.”

Kendra didn’t know what to say to that.

Sorry I’m not me enough for you at the moment?

I’m sure I’ll be myself again eventually, don’t give up.

The only version of me I care about is the one that gets to sit in the sunlight.

She kept staring at the castle instead, her former home. The place where the other Kendra first became the person Ronodin loved.

Quietly, she asked, “I can really keep this?”

“Of course, Love,” Ronodin said, “I even left out the caged dragons for you, so you can remember the good parts more than the bad.”

Her head swiveled towards him, “This isn’t what it actually looks like?”

He blinked, “No, that’s what it looks like. But Dragons are a pain to draw, and most of them stay out of that particular direction anyway. They generally don’t like to be near the keep, nor the giant’s mountain behind it. I was just joking.”

“Oh,” she said, “That’s…okay. Mind if I take it to my room?”

“Be sure to let it finish drying,” Ronodin said, stepping aside.

Kendra hesitated at the door, “I’m not the Kendra you know. I don’t know how to be that Kendra. Are you sure it wouldn’t be better to just drop me off back home so I can figure things out from the beginning?”

“This is a beginning of sorts,” Ronodin mused. “But I know the truth of you. I know how confused you are right now, and how much trust you are putting in me. I am deeply aware of that.” He said. The sheer intensity of his gaze made her blush. “The day you understand truth of who you are in your bones, and who I am, that day will change everything. That day is worth waiting for. You are worth waiting for, whether you become exactly the woman I remember or not.”

Kendra blushed and fled. She went to her room, put the landscape against the wall, and put her hands over her flushing cheeks. Smoldering intensity was not a fair superpower! Did all unicorns have that? No, she didn’t really love him yet; he was just distracting! This was desperation, and loneliness, and—and she didn’t even know the names of her parents! She didn’t know what love was. Had she ever been in love before? When you loved someone, was Ronodin what it looked like?

They still had to go the grotto that afternoon.

She pulled back on the clothes she had arrived in, jeans, shirt, and added her poorly made cardigan. Feeling nice and covered up, she made her way to the kitchen for lunch.

“I changed my mind, let’s have lunch in the grotto,” Ronodin said, waving a basket full of sandwiches and chips in her direction as he filled up water bottles, “Remember to keep your light dim.”

Kendra frowned, but it wasn’t like she was going to complain about leaving this place.

He frowned at her, “Those clothes again?”

“You could always take me shopping,” she said, folding her arms. “Or let me use your phone for some online shopping.”

Ronodin chuckled, walking up to her, “Our host doesn’t exactly have a listed address. Come on,” he held out an arm, and Kendra weighed the pros and cons of accepting it. Pro: get out of here faster. Con: Ronodin being a jerk and violating her personal space.

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” Ronodin said, rolling his eyes.

Kendra took his arm, and watched him carefully as they approached the door. Mendigo moved to stop him, but Kendra said, “It’s alright. He’s allowed to leave with me. Watch our stuff, kay.” The puppet snapped back into guard position.

Ronodin took out a key from his pocket. A big, rusty thing, and fit it into the lock at the same time that he said something in language she didn’t understand.

“That’s not fair,” Kendra said as he turned the key. He didn’t respond, just opened the door and led her out into a hallway.

This part of the property was much less polished than her apartment. The stone was rougher, smoothed by time rather than professionally. She also knew instinctively that she would be frozen if it wasn’t for the ruby necklace. The corridor narrowed and widened randomly, and it was dark.

Of course, she probably could have brightened things by letting her own light shine, but out here it wouldn’t only be rude to Ronodin, it would also be rude to anyone else in the hallway. They passed by one person, who looked extremely gaunt and old, and he still flinched a little at her dim shining.

Ronodin led her up through twisty corridors with lots of forks. She tried to keep track, but would undoubtably be lost within minutes if Ronodin wasn’t here. Kendra started to smell saltwater, and pulled Ronodin along faster.

It was strange. If ten minutes ago you had asked her to describe and know the smell of saltwater, she wouldn’t have been able to. As soon as she smelled it though, it was like that synapse reconnected. Of course that was what saltwater smelled like.

“Watch the brightness,” Ronodin warned, but sped up with her. In her excitement, she had let her control slip. Kendra forced herself to slow down and keep her magic to herself.

They reached a rocky shore, the tide lapping in tiny waves. There was seaweed scattered below the waterline, a drum in the corner, and a bunch of random animal bones.

She put her hand into the water and sighed. Feeling it push and pull against her hand was amazing. Ronodin set up lunch behind her, but she focused on the sensations of right now. The feel of water, the look of the rounded grotto, the…dead fish. And now she had memorized what rotting fish smelled like.

Grossed out, she went back to Ronodin who offered her a napkin to dry her hands and some hand sanitizer. Then he snapped another photo of them on their picnic blanket.

“Why didn’t you set up closer to the drum?” Kendra asked. It looked much flatter and less rocky over there.

“Didn’t want to risk accidentally sounding it,” he said simply. He handed her a sandwich.

“What happens?”

“The sound would summon a dragon that would more than love to eat you.”

“Romantic.”

Ronodin looked amused. “You wanted elsewhere, I got you elsewhere. You’re going to have to be a little clearer when you want me to court you and when you don’t.”

Kendra blushed, “It’s complicated. I don’t know when I want you to court me either. I don’t think I want to be courted right now. There’s still so much I don’t know about myself.”

“Well, let’s find out a little more,” Ronodin said “What would make this romantic?”

Kendra blushed and looked at her food, “I don’t know, I’ve never been courted before. That’s the problem.” She took a bite.

“You knew enough to know that this place isn’t romantic, give it a try,” Ronodin encouraged.

“Give me a second to think then,” she said, then took another bite.

She finished her sandwich half, took a drink, and said. “Well, the rotting fish in the water wasn’t pleasant, that would need to go. So would the animal bones, and the threat of a deadly sea dragon eating me. Umm, fairy lights I guess? Something soft to help light this place. This blanket is okay, but having some pillows set up too would help.”

“Music?” Ronodin asked.

Kendra shook her head, “Not necessarily, the sound of the waves is calming and new. I’d be a little sad to have that drowned out by music. Of course, this place would be immediately topped by anyplace with sunlight. Like a mall.”

“A mall,” Ronodin deadpanned. “Do you even remember what a mall looks like? Secluded grotto beats mall every time, even with dragons and dead fish.”

“But we could buy clothes,” Kendra emphasized. “And knowing what I want and need, and spending time with me? Most romantic thing ever.” She had agreed with Lady Kuychia in that aspect. She thought she did, at least. Everything Kendra agreed with currently was subject to change.

“Noted,” Ronodin said drily. “A bit contradictory, but noted.”

“Prison cells make everything unromantic,” she declared.

“On that,” Ronodin said, “We agree completely. I’m glad that viewpoint hasn’t changed with your memory loss.”

Kendra hesitated, “Was my family really a bunch of jailers?”

Ronodin nodded, “They thought they had their reasons, but the reasons were nonsense and broke down once a reasonably intelligent teenager looked at them. They justified them by saying that the inhabitants were happier in cages than in the mortal world, while the continuous, active rebellion suggested that they aren’t. The prisons protected mortals from dangerous creatures. But mortals have their own protections, and who said that humans should be the ones in charge of everything? They’re doing a terrible job of it.

“And my favorite: keep them locked up because their nature is to harm. Humans have killed more things than all the dragons combined since the prisons were put up. You don’t hate the wolf for eating the deer. You don’t hate the ocean for crumbling the shore. Is the day better than the night? For somethings, like sunbathing and growing plants, but the night is better for seeing stars and sleeping. Not only is it morally wrong to keep sentient things in prison without hope of freedom, it throws the world out of balance.”

Kendra was quiet.

Ronodin looked at her, “Oh, your family isn’t terrible. Your brother is a nuisance, as most brothers are, but he believes he is doing the right thing and goes out of his way to cause as little harm as possible. They all do. It’s what their parents did, and their parents, for a very long time. They are wrong, not bad. Clearly, otherwise you wouldn’t have turned out the way you did.”

“What happens when you open all the prison cells?” Kendra asked. “You said the dragon here would love to eat me. I haven’t done anything at all to it. Could I convince the dragon not to eat me?”

“If you were skilled, and you were clever,” Ronodin said. “And by the Jirbarro’s standards, we did do something wrong: we entered his territory. By entering the hunting ground of a bear, you invite the bear to attack.”

“How many jails are there? Would the whole world become a hunting ground?”

Ronodin shrugged, “Don’t know. But I think it would be interesting and fair to find out.”

Kendra frowned, and was about to say something else, when the water in the grotto started splashing.

“Ah,” Ronodin said. He glanced at Kendra. “Be ready to be skilled and clever.”

“What!”

A dragon rose out of the water. Huge. Impossibly huge. Ridiculously large. Things that size shouldn’t be allowed, some law of biology had to be crying over this creature’s existence. Kendra’s muscles locked into place with fear.

“Ah, Ronodin, have you brought me a snack?” asked the dragon. It was like Kendra was hearing three voices, the dragon’s main voice, a voice that came as though from underwater, and its echo.

“No, just enjoying the scenery,” Ronodin said.

“Oh my,” Jirbarro said, completely ignoring Ronodin, “And such a unique snack too! Slayer of the Demon King, caretaker of wyrmroost, and handmaiden to the fairy queen herself. Rumor has it that she sent Celebrant back to his hole like wyrmling.” The dragon lowered its head to better look at her. “Tell me child, can you speak?”

Kendra focused on the ground infront of the dragon, “Please…back away.” It took will power, but she was able to grind out a single sentence. She was rather proud of it.

Jibarro shook his head, “Barely, and your reputation was growing so well. Eating you will be doing you a service. You can die with your legends, and no one has to know you were speechless.”

“I need her, our host has a special task for her,” Ronodin lied, “No feasting now.”

Kendra tried to pull her magic forward, massage it through her muscles, anything, but nothing worked. Ronodin needed her, he loved her, she wouldn’t make him watch her get eaten by a dragon.

Still her muscles refused to move.

Kendra thought about the picture Ronodin had painted of her childhood home. Thought of her brother. But it was remembering that pale orb that stuck in in her mind. She was not going to die without feeling sunlight.

There was a snap, and all the bindings holding her in place fell apart.

“Excuse me,” she said, “I am nobody’s dinner.”

Their attention riveted on her again.

“Does the kelp speak?” Jibarro asked.

“The human does,” Kendra said, and she let go of the hold she had on her light. She felt better as the grotto brightened to a dim room. “And I would like to request the curtesy of asking me to leave before eating for an imagined slight or because you think it would make yourself more important. We are both intelligent, let’s respect that.”

This time Ronodin’s mouth really did drop open, but she didn’t need to laugh at it, Jibarro was doing it for her.

“Such an entertaining mouse!” Jibarro said. He looked down at Ronodin, “Very well, now that her fear is gone, humans make far too paltry a snack. And as the mouse demands, you should leave before I change my mind. I can’t wait to see what insults she and her brother serve the mighty Celebrant next.”

Ronodin nodded, “We will accept your offer of leave.” Ronodin rolled up everything into the blanket he brought and together they left, hearing the splash of water behind them of Jibarro leaving as well.

Once they were back in the corridor, Kendra collapsed against the wall.

“I see your point,” Ronodin said casually, “The threat of being eaten by a dragon is a downer.”

“What was that?” Kendra asked.

“Dragon fear,” Ronodin said, “All dragons exude it, though some don’t by choice. It gets paired with their general mesmerizing ability, but your status as Fairy Kind protects your mind from that part. The resistance to fear seems to be something you needed to overcome on your own. Congrats are in order, I suppose.”

“He called me a lot of titles,” Kendra said. “How did he know? I don’t even know most of those.”

Ronodin shrugged, “Certain experiences and acts leave marks that those with eyes to see can perceive. You read about the Thrones of Power right?” Kendra nodded, “One of the prisons your family supported was the greater demon prison, Zzyzx. With a powerful sword and a hefty bit of absolute rage, you slew the previous holder of the Demon Crown. I wasn’t invited to that party, my family likely concerned I would side with the demons, but even I can see the mark on you from the experience.”

“I did that?” she asked, standing up. A whole four pages of the book had been devoted to the crowns as the pillars of magic that are virtually unlimited, held in check only by each other. “Wait, would you have sided with the demons?”

Ronodin shrugged, “I would have heard them out, I suppose. I didn’t have a preference one way or another how it turned out. I would have been fine.”

But would the rest of humanity? She didn’t know much about demons, but they seemed worse than the undead. The destruction of the undead seemed predicated on their nature, they have nothing but wanting, so even a sliver of life seems the greatest feast. Created by the weakness of living beings. Demons did it because it was fun, they wanted to, and because of a personal conviction that everyone is terrible and deserves to die if they aren’t strong enough to live. That’s why demons were on the morality triangle, and the undead on the creature triangle.

It was a silent walk back to her apartment.

They entered and Ronodin looked at her. “See what I mean about this place being dangerous? I have connections and favors down here that let me go without harm, but you don’t.” Mendigo was standing beside him.

Kendra thought about it, but that orb of sun stuck fast in her mind. “Yes, it is dangerous, but even with the danger and dead things, it was more than I’ve gotten in my life. Mendigo? My orders stand. Ronodin isn’t allowed to leave without me.”

Ronodin was livid. “Rather than let me go out and secure your freedom, you would trap us both here? Foolish doesn’t begin to cover you. Insane? Senile? Self-destructive? Call off your puppet.”

“No,” Kendra said, raising her chin, “You leave, you take me with you. I’ll do what I have to to stay alive. You said that everyone who got in the way of my goals was my enemy. Being faced with Dragon fear taught me that seeing the sunlight is a more important goal to me than just about anything else.”

The ‘even you’ went unsaid, and she wondered if Ronodin heard it as clearly as she meant it.

Ronodin closed his eyes and breathed. He seemed to be counting, and Kendra waited. He opened his eyes and was much calmer, “You have no idea what it means to have a goal more important than anything else,” he said, “You are acting like a child, but I am going to give us both one more chance to act reasonably. For every time you come with me, I obtain the right to leave by myself twice. Considering how infuriating you are making everything, this is an extremely generous offer.”

Kendra thought it over, “A one to one ratio, and you don’t have to take me above ground. A two-to-one ratio, and you have to take me above ground for it to count.”

“Fine,” he said, “One to one. But I’m tired after dealing with you, so please entertain yourself.”

“Mendigo,” Kendra said, “Ronodin may leave once without me. Come, we’re going to the library.”

She took five steps away, then stopped, “I’m sorry, but while I’m negotiating with the power to stop you from leaving, you’re negotiating with the power to leave me here forever. I can’t risk that.”

“Then maybe you should stop being such a brat, and I’d more inclined not to leave you here forever,” Ronodin said.

Kendra glanced back at him, but he wasn’t looking at her, instead doing something on his phone.

He doesn’t mean that. She made herself think, over and over. If only she believed it.

#Forgotten light #Kendra Sorenson #Ronodin #they go on a date of sorts #Fablehaven #Dragonwatch

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jaskiersvalley · 4 years

Note

I am *flailing with joy* at- well honestly, at ALL of your fics but particularly the illiterate-witchers series! "We're what's left when children are made for war" ripped my heart out. If you look under Jaskier's, you might even be able to see the pieces!

That line was what had been the source of the whole ficlet! And I’m so happy you picked it out too. It was a line I talked to @thefishmongersdaughter about and they helped bounce around some delightful ideas for it which then got a little sidetracked into another idea.

They said: Jaskier: Literally nobody is forcing you to fight monsters. You're all just stubbornly doing it out of principle.... God only knows I've been trying to get you all to sodding retire.

The wonderful thing about being a Viscount was the abundance of money. Jaskier could easily buy his way into almost anything. And out of it if it went wrong. All through the years, he had craved adventure and a life worth living but, as the years slipped by, he wanted something more, a place to call home. He had just the location in mind, somewhere he could happily always return to and knew he would have company if he went back for the winter.

The beauty of it was, when he tried to find out who owned the lands he’d set his eyes and heart on, nobody seemed to know. It took three people leafing through archives to find a name that was from over 100 years ago. With no obvious heir or claimant to the lands, Jaskier paid the records office an extremely modest amount and suddenly the crumbling keep nobody wanted to go near was his.

This was at the start of spring. Jaskier brought in workmen and help to restore the keep to its former glory. Blood stained walls were cleaned, chains and iron cots with shackles were removed. All too soon, Kaer Morhen was looking like a welcoming home. Something Jaskier doubted it ever actually looked like before. Gone was the doom and gloom, replaced by an open and airy atmosphere. The stables were done up, there were goats, chicken and sheep, along with a couple of grumpy cows. By the time winter was starting to creep in, Jaskier had lived in and homely keep.

The first to arrive back for the winter was Vesemir. He’d tried to take the old, precarious path but soon found that there was an easy road to ride over right up to the entrance of the keep. He entered, looking around and on high alert until Jaskier emerged with a warm “hello!”. Their first meeting went a little worse than anticipated. The witcher distrustful and seemingly outraged that their sacred training grounds had been so rudely reclaimed. At least, until he saw the library and what Jaskier had guessed to be his room. Some of the bedrooms had signs of small, personal comforts which he had been careful to keep.

Lambert had held a sword to Jaskier’s throat when they met and Vesemir had to yell at him before he backed off. Still, he seemed grouchy, even if there was a certain satisfaction in how the stables have been properly taken care of so his darling princess of a horse has somewhere decent to stay.

By contrast, Eskel just strolls in, looks around and shrugs. It was about time the old place got a bit of love. If he didn’t have to lift a finger to do it but still got to reap the benefits, he wasn’t going to complain.

“The fuck?” That signalled Geralt’s arrival. The others had already all settled in, enjoying the warm rooms and how the decorations were artfully masking the painful history of the building. There was a whole different feel to the keep now, comfortable, easy and all old ghosts laid to rest.

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s voice was flat as he looked at the bard. “What is the meaning of this.”

“Actually, here it’s Julian Alfred Pankrazt, Viscount de Morhen now. You’re welcome.”

Some things are not worth arguing about. And some things cannot be argued about. This was definitely such a thing. Geralt hadn’t seen Jaskier for the whole year. They had gone such length before without each other but not since they started sleeping together. Then again, last time they had parted on somewhat bitter terms with Geralt slipping out of the room as dawn broke. They resolved their issues with minimal talking and maximum sex. All was well again and they were at the table in the vast kitchen with everyone gathered for dinner.

“So, I figured that witchers have a knack for just slowing down and getting killed because they have nowhere to go. It’s difficult to keep going when you don’t have a home or a family.” Four witchers stared at him with suspicion. “Thus, I wish to declare Kaer Morhen, retirement home for witchers to be open all year round, not just winter.”

It sounded grand and the witchers laughed a little. Until other things began to slot into place. It wasn’t just Kaer Morhen that Jaskier bought, but the surrounding land too. As Viscount, he had a chunk of land with villages and towns. Those were now also home and a safe haven. Even if a witcher didn’t want to or couldn’t make it back to the keep, as long as he was on Jaskier’s land, they would be welcomed and looked after. In return, the area had never been more safe from monsters and creatures.

None of the witchers stayed permanently but there were extended periods to recuperate and gather resources. Jaskier wasn’t there either. Usually, he was by Geralt’s side, traversing the continent on the ever winding path. But, as was tradition, each winter they all returned to a roaring fire and good food.

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #vesemir #lambert #eskel #the witcher #witcher wolf pack #tldr: jaskier makes a witcher retirement home out of kaer morhen

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echoes-of-the-clockwork · 3 years

Text

Book Four: War (Gladiolus x Reader) Chapter Twenty-Three

Atop Erra and Ares, (Y/n), Pestilence, Gladio, and Ignis rode out of Hammerhead. They rode down the road a little ways before veering off into the dusty, rocky landscape. They were able to avoid the detection of daemons as they rode towards Formouth Garrison. Their bright flashlights and Ares' fiery mane lit up the darkness.

Once reaching Formouth Garrison, the group circled around the perimeter in search of an infiltration point. The stone walls were thick and high, but some were starting to crumble and give way to the flow of time. The two horses trotted around the stronghold until coming to a stop at the command of their riders.

The four dismount the horses after discovering a crack in one of the walls that was big enough for them to squeeze through. Pestilence and War went first followed by Ignis and Gladio. They kept their heads low to avoid being detected by the prowling MTs and imperial troopers. Hiding behind a pile of crates, the group peered out to watch the enemies' movements. They took note of the large dreadnought hovering in the center of the stronghold and how they were loading the cargo hold with mechs and large metal crates.

"Any idea what they're doing?" Gladio asked just above a whisper.

"It seems they're reclaiming what was left behind," Pestilence answered. "Something feels off, though."

"What's wrong?" (Y/n) questioned.

"If this is a simple reclamation, why are there so many soldiers and MTs? Wouldn't it be easier without a large force?"

"I fear there's more than meets the eye," Ignis stated.

"Dave only wants us to see what's going on, but I think we need to deal with these guys," the redhead commented. "We don't need imperial scum around these parts when the daemons are already a handful as is."

"Yes, I agree. We should deal with them here and now," the lilac-eyed girl responded.

"I'm on board," Gladio stated.

"As am I," Ignis said.

"We'll remain on watch for the time being. Whenever we've a feel for their movements, that's when we'll establish our next course of action," Pestilence explained.

The group kept their attention focused on the imperial forces' movements. They watched them march around the stronghold and load up the large dreadnought. (Y/n)'s attention was drawn to a couple of soldiers who exited the airship and sauntered away in the opposite direction. She could see their lips moving, but couldn't hear what they were saying. "Excuse me for a moment..." She whispered to the others before pursuing the two soldiers in the shadows. She used whatever she could for cover, following them to the opposite side of Formouth Garrison.

(Y/n) concealed herself behind a rack of weapons when the two soldiers suddenly turned around. She tensed up when they started walking over to her hiding spot. She was about to summon her sword and deal with them, but stopped when she heard them conversing.

"Won't that wipe out the entire area?" One soldier asked.

"There's nothing to worry about. The explosion will just be a distraction. As long as we get the hell outta here in the next twenty minutes, we'll be fine," the other soldier answered.

War's eyes narrowed at hearing their conversation. She listened to their retreating footsteps before carefully making her way back to Gladio, Ignis, and Pestilence. She kneeled beside her sister with a grave expression. "We've got a major problem."

"What is it?" Gladio asked.

"This place is gonna explode in the next twenty minutes."

"What?" Ignis gasped, emerald eyes widening behind his visor.

"I overheard a conversation between two soldiers. They mentioned the explosion was going to be a distraction."

"A distraction for what?" Pestilence wondered.

(Y/n) shook her head with a sigh. "No idea."

"Damn..." Gladio growled. "We've gotta do something."

"We need to locate whatever they plan on using to destroy this place and deactivate it," the ivory-haired girl said.

"We don't have much time," Ignis stated.

Suddenly, the dreadnought lifted into the sky with its cargo hold filled. It took off in the direction of Hammerhead, leaving behind a small group of imperial troopers. One of them broke off and headed towards a metal door.

"War, follow him," Pestilence stated. "We'll be right behind you once we deal with the remaining soldiers."

(Y/n) nodded and summoned a single dagger. She warped over to the door just as it closed behind the soldier. Quietly, she followed after the enemy. He led her to a room with a large console. When he pressed a single button on the control panel, she saw a number appear on the screen.

5:00

She gasped when seeing it began counting down. Acting quickly, she killed the soldier and ran over to the control panel. She pressed random buttons desperately, hoping one would stop the 5-minute countdown. Looking back up at the timer, her eyes widened in horror.

3:00

The redhead wondered how else she could stop the countdown. She summoned her sword and went to destroy the control panel, but stopped when she feared it would result in the explosion to trigger earlier. Dispelling her blade, she glanced up at the large computer screen with a melancholic gaze. There was one idea left she wanted to try, but she knew Gladio, Pestilence, and Ignis wouldn't agree with it.

2:00

(Y/n) steeled herself, deciding to try her final idea. Using the Crystal's power, she erected a large scarlet barrier around her and the console. She prayed to the Astrals her barrier would be strong enough to stop the explosion from destroying all of Formouth Garrison with her as the core.

"What're you doing?!" War heard Pestilence shriek.

The (e/c)-eyed girl turned around to see her sister, Gladio, and Ignis standing outside the barrier. "Stopping the explosion."

"You can't!" She screeched. "Your body will vaporize and you'll die!"

"(Y/n), put this damn barrier down now," Gladio hissed, scowling at her.

"No," she dully replied, turning her back to them. "You three need to get out of here. I'm not sure my barrier will be able to contain the entire explosion and I don't want you all to get caught in it."

"Like hell we're leaving!" Gladio growled. "I've already lost one person. I'm not losing another!"

0:50

"Pestilence, please," (Y/n) begged.

The lilac-eyed Horseman stared sorrowfully at her sister's back. She knew she only wanted to protect them, but she couldn't bear the thought of losing her. She clenched and unclenched her fists before deciding to respect War's wish. "I...I understand."

Before Gladio or Ignis could react, Pestilence grabbed both of them and used all her strength to teleport them out of Formouth Garrison. When they appeared outside the walls of the stronghold, she released the two men and fell to her knees in exhaustion. Ignis kneeled beside her, placing a hand on her back. She turned her head and offered him a melancholic smile to reassure him.

Gladio turned his fiery glare towards Pestilence. "The hell did you do that?! You're gonna let (Y/n) sacrifice herself?!"

"Gladio," Ignis' voice was lower than usual. "There's no need for-"

The Horseman placed her hand against the advisor's knee, silencing him. With his help, she got back on her feet. "I don't want her to sacrifice herself. She's my sister, after all. But I wish to respect her decision and grant her final wish. Be mad at me all you like."

Just then, the ground rumbled slightly. The group knew exactly what caused the tremor and fell silent. Gladio gritted his teeth, clenching his fists tightly. Pestilence leaned into Ignis' side the moment she felt tears threatening to fall. She could no longer sense (Y/n)'s presence.

"Now, now, everyone!" A cheerful voice rang out.

Gladio and Ignis looked around in confusion while Pestilence knew exactly who was speaking. She not only sensed one presence but two. "King Aeshema?"

As the daemon king's name echoed out into the darkness, a man with blue horns and pointy ears adorned in an intricately designed robe appeared. Alongside the immortal was War. He had an arm wrapped around her waist, smiling. "Your darling (Y/n) is safe and in one piece."

War sighed, removing his arm from her waist. "I appreciate the help, Your Majesty, but it's way too dangerous for you to be here."

"Aw, don't be like that!" He pouted. "My only desire was to reach you in time. You are one of my Horsemen, after all. I cherish you like I do your sisters. It would be a shame to lose you."

"You could always make another soul take the persona of War," she mumbled.

"That's way too much work. Besides, I don't think it would be fair if you were to sacrifice yourself after finding that special someone." King Aeshema looked over at Gladio with a knowing grin. "Oh, but he looks a little mad."

"Your Grace, please return to Hell," Pestilence gently demanded. "There are daemons approaching."

"Ah, my lovely subjects have come to greet me. A shame they won't be able to witness by vanishing act." The daemon king smiled at the group. "Farewell."

In the blink of an eye, King Aeshema was gone.

"We should go as well," Pestilence advised. "There's a large horde of them coming our way."

The four rode back to Hammerhead before daemons could surround them. When they rode through the gate, they dismounted the horses. Pestilence went to ask (Y/n) what happened, but she watched with wide eyes as Gladio threw her over his shoulder and marched her inside the caravan.

"Well, um..." She cleared her throat. "I guess all that matters is we stopped the empire and everyone's safe. Even the dreadnought has vanished."

Ignis couldn't help but chuckle at her slightly flushed expression. "Indeed."

Inside the caravan, Gladio tossed (Y/n) onto the bed. Her body bounced up and down a couple of times when coming in contact with the mattress. She tried to sit up, but her wrists were quickly pinned down against the mattress above her head. She stared into Gladio's anger-filled amber eyes with a stoic expression. "If you're gonna yell at me, do it now and get it over with. But before you do, I just wanna let you know that I'm not gonna apologize."

"Yeah, I already know you well enough to know when you actually feel remorse," Gladio retorted vehemently. "But what you did today was stupid and reckless. If that daemon king of yours didn't show up, you'd be dead."

"I know," she mumbled sorrowfully. "I am sorry for how I made you feel, but not for what I did."

Gladio released her wrists and moved to sit on the edge of the small bed. "Dammit..." He ran a hand through his hair. "Feels like I'm scolding Noct..."

(Y/n) pushed herself up into a sitting position. "Guess royalty will always be a royal pain in the ass."

The brute chortled. "Can't deny that."

The couple fell silent. War scooted closer to Gladio and rested her head on his shoulder. "You'll see him again, I promise."

"Yeah..." Gladio went to raise his arm, but grunted in pain.

Of course, the redhead heard. "What's wrong with your arm?"

"Probably pulled a muscle. No big deal, though."

"You'll heal on your own," she snickered.

The shield let out another chuckle. "So much for being my personal healer."

"Hey, you're the one who said it isn't a big deal." She lifted her head from his shoulder and stood up. "Try to get some rest. I need to chat with Pestilence."

"You won't hear me arguing." Gladio flopped down on the bed with a huff. He was fast asleep within a minute.

(Y/n) smiled at him before leaving the caravan.

<-------------<<<<<

By the time Gladio awoke six hours later, (Y/n) was sitting on the small couch in the caravan. She watched him closely as he got up and headed to take a shower in the small bathroom. She moved to sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to finish.

Ten minutes later, Gladio emerged from the shower and changed into a fresh set of clothes. Seeing she was waiting for him, he sat down on the bed. (Y/n) scooted back on top of the bed, tucking her knees underneath her as she combed her fingers through his damp locks. She found his longer hair was more fun to mess with than when it was shorter. She even helped him style it from time to time just as she was doing for him now.

After combing her fingers through Gladio's hair and ridding it of a couple of knots, she took a small rubber band and put his hair up in a half ponytail. "There. All done."

"Thanks, firecracker," Gladio replied.

(Y/n) stared at his back for a few seconds before pushing herself to her knees and wrapping her arms around his neck from behind. She leaned against his back, resting her head on top of his. She wasn't bothered that his hair was still wet. "I know I don't say it a lot, but...I love you, Gladio."

A warm smile blossomed on the shield's face at her gentle words. Because of their current position, he couldn't kiss her properly. Instead, he grabbed one of her hands and placed a kiss on top of it. "Love you too, (Y/n)."

She closed her eyes with a content smile. "Thank you for showing me what real love is."

•••••••••••END••••••••••••

This marks the end of the Four Horsemen series! I wanted to thank everyone who joined me on this journey and supported the stories. There is another FFXV reader insert series I will be doing. If you wish to ask questions about the next series, feel free to leave a comment or PM me! I hope some of you are looking forward to it! Love you all!!!

#ffxv #ffxv x reader #final fantasy xv #final fantasy xv x reader #gladiolus amicitia #gladiolus x reader #gladio x reader

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

Text

Helping Hand - Chapter 3 (Jaskier x Reader)

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2)

Taglist: @100percentamess @mytinybaguette @platinum-meadow33 @wackiekebab @littlest-mushroom plus presumptuously tagging a few people who were interested @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @lilredbird101 @inmaidjan

Even though it’s been months since I started this series... even though no one’s requested Jaskier in forever... even though this is probably the least impactful thing I’ve ever written... I finished it! I hope it lives up to all the waiting you poor people had to tolerate!

“Are you awake?” you heard Geralt’s voice somewhere far away. You mustered all your energy to nod your head, but couldn’t open your eyes all the way. You felt like you were somewhere between sleep and waking, and it made you unsure if this was actually happening or some strange dream. “You’ve been asleep for nearly two days,” he explained. “Seems like the past week is finally catching up with you.”

You tried to speak but you were too weak, only soft groans emerging.

“Get some more rest. Maybe you won’t remember this conversation when you wake up. Maybe you won’t remember any of what’s happened…” he trailed off.

You fell back asleep, though you fought with all your might to stay awake.

You woke up and this time you actually felt well-rested, like you could just get up and walk around. You didn’t quite yet, just savoring the feeling of satisfaction, something you had forgotten about from your condition. You knew the curse had been lifted, it was like night and day with how you felt now.

Of course, though your body was well, your mind was not so well. You’d told Jaskier than you loved him, and hadn’t been around to hear a response. Your odds didn’t seem so good though, with the whole ordeal of him being entirely sure that you were delusional. Some of the things he’d said gave you hope, though. It was all sort of a blur now- you remembered thinking that maybe he loved you, too, but you couldn’t actually remember why you’d thought that.

There was a mug of water by your bed and you chugged it all in one go, so desperately thirsty after sleeping through the past few days. You were thankful that this thirst could be quenched so easily: you wouldn’t take that for granted again.

You heard the sound of pacing outside the door, and just from the way the footsteps sounded, you knew it was Jaskier. Geralt didn’t seem the type to anxiously pace, anyhow.

“Jaskier? Are you out there?” you called out. The footsteps stopped, but no answer. You frowned. “Let me try that again: Jaskier, I know you’re out there.”

The door opened and he peered in with a sheepish smile. “Are you alright?” he asked, but before you could answer, he added “You look better. Not so exhausted.”

“I think the curse lifted. Actually, I know it did,” you told him.

“Oh, well, that’s-- good,” he stuttered. He started to turn to leave.

“Hey! Come back,” you instructed. He turned back and you patted a space beside you on the bed for him to sit. He looked a little pained but he did it.

“You’re feeling well then,” he continued.

“Yes. I could probably sleep for another day if I wanted, but yeah, I feel… good. Normal,” you told him. He looked at the floor.

“Yeah, I guess it really wore you out.”

You wore me out, in the best possible way, you replied internally.

“Mm-hmm,” you answered instead.

“You’re sure it’s gone? You don’t… long for me?”

“If I do,” you replied softly, “it’s not because of any curse.”

He smiled weakly, as if you were making a joke.

“Right, well, anyways--” he started to stand up.

“You think I didn’t mean what I said. That it was part of the curse, too,” you posited.

He sat back down but didn’t look at you.

“When I said that I needed you, I meant that. And when I said that you were the best sex I’d ever had,” you tried not to blush as you remembered, “I meant that.”

“Well, it was only the best because you were all hopped up on magic,” he mumbled.

“No, Julian, when I said that… I was talking about the other time.”

He turned back to you with a raised eyebrow.

“The pub in Cintra. That was the best,” you clarified.

You expected him to make some sort of statement on that but he was silent.

“And when I said that I loved you,” you continued, “it wasn’t the curse. Saying it was how I broke the curse.”

“How long?” he asked, his voice coming out somewhat hoarse. You swallowed.

“A long time. I didn’t realise it until it was almost too late. But a long, long time,” you sighed.

"Good to know," he said wistfully, looking out the window.

"You're not going to… say anything about that?”

“I want to let you rest,” he defended.

“I can’t rest until you tell me if you feel the same way,” you said sternly. “I’m ready for the truth. Even if it’s that you want nothing to do with me.”

He looked at you with wide eyes. “Nothing to do with you? You’re my best friend!”

“Isn’t that exactly why you don’t love me?”

He looked away, and you looked to the floor as well. You just wished he would get it over with.

“After all this, I can’t believe that’s what you think this is about.”

You rolled your eyes. “Damn it Jask, I really don’t have the energy for this crypticism, alright?”

“I love you. Of course I do,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief, “did you… did you really not know?”

You had never been so ecstatic and irritated simultaneously. “Do I look like someone in the know?”

He laughed. “No, I suppose not.”

“Lay next to me, won’t you?”

He slipped in under the covers next to you and your heart fluttered. How had you managed to jump this man’s bones when now he made you feel like a ditzy schoolgirl? Clearly the curse had dulled your nerves.

His arms wrapped around you and you tucked your head under his chin.

“It was awful to have you so close and know that it was all just a spell,” he sighed. “Or, think that it was all a spell. I mean, the sex was great, but I’m glad we can just talk for a bit.”

"Me too. And it was awful to have you so close and know that it was all just a favor."

“I can’t believe you thought for a moment that I had altruistic motivations,” he chuckled.

The weeks went by quickly, and you were sure you’d never been so happy. Not that Jaskier had that much competition to be your best boyfriend, with the resume of garbage you had behind you.

It was nothing like how you’d been when you were cursed. He was sweet, attentive, and you actually had learned a little patience. That said, you were getting a little antsy with the lack of intimacy. Since your little love-confession-meets-fainting-spell, he hadn’t taken you to bed once. You’d told yourself to just let it happen naturally, but you were starting to fear there was something wrong with you-- or him, but most likely you.

You really didn’t want to have a conversation about this, but you wanted to make sure everything was alright. You still put it off for quite some time anyways.

You stepped into his room carefully, watching him pick at his lute, which he quickly set aside when he saw you. He must have been able to tell instantly by your eyes that you were concerned.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” he asked as you took a spot beside him on the mattress.

“Jaskier, you’ve been a bit… distant,” you began.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “and I haven’t had sex with you.” You choked a bit. “Er, yeah, I was getting to that part. If you’re waiting for me to drag you into a closet,” you smirked, “I don’t do that anymore. Reclaiming a bit of my former classiness.” “No, I just…” he sighed, “I’m not sure I can compete with… myself?” You gave him a confused look.

“You see, before, you were under the effects of this ridiculous curse and it made everything so great and, I’m just not sure I can do that all again. I’d hate to disappoint you.”

You laughed at that suggestion. “I wouldn’t worry about that.”

If telling someone not to worry about something made them not worry about it, the world would be a different place than it currently is. However, it did soothe him a little; enough, even, to make love to you that night.

The way he touched you, without the fever, without the delirium... it was something entirely unexpected. Every time you'd had him before, even the non-magically-enhanced time in Cintra, was at least somewhat quick and needy and fierce. You'd loved that, but it made it easier then to run from your true feelings. Now he was unraveling you with such delicacy that you were forced to confront the love you'd hidden for so long.

“Gods, I love you,” you groaned as if you couldn’t stop the words from spilling forth.

"Hmm, say it again," he requested softly.

"I love you," you whispered back.

He smiled-- no, beamed-- as he leaned down to kiss the shell of your ear.

"One more time, just for good measure."

"Jaskier, I love you," you whimpered, "and if you deny me your touch a moment longer I may lose my mind."

"I've seen you lose your mind," he recalled, “it’s gorgeous.”

“Sweaty, desperate and begging?” you grimaced.

“Exactly,” he smiled. “But that’s not what I want from you now. No begging. I’ll give you what you need. Don’t ask me for anything, please. Just let me love you. I’ll make it worth your while.”

You smiled. “You’d better.”

#I DID ITTTTT #jaskier x reader #jaskier x y/n #dandelion x reader #dandelion x y/n #the witcher fanfiction #jaskier smut #dandelion smut

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idjitlili · 4 years

Text

Fili x reader

Summary:

Imagine being in one of the cells in Thranduils dungeon, only for fili to be put in the same cell.

Warnings: mention of parents potentially death( not confirmed) , slight nudity.

Word count:1952

Who were you exactly? You don’t really know, you weren’t from this world. As a child you loved pirates of the Caribbean, so much that when you turned 17 , your parents took you on a real pirate ship.

No pirates of course , and it actually sailed , it was great until something went wrong.

You could swim of course , how could you want to be on the waters without knowing how to . once the ship went down something dragged you by the leg , pulled you into the water , I guess like the kraken does. Anyways everything went black, and you woke up in a forest ,which you later found out was called Mirkwood.

You got surrounded by spiders , and I mean not house spiders but like cow sized. It was disgustANG. Yet you didn’t have to worry about the spiders for long , when a bunch of long haired dudes shot them dead ,with arrows. But you did worry about them after , they dragged you up asked you who you were, which they didn’t believe.

A blond man, with weird shaped ears , began to question you once you was on your feet.

“Who are you ,human?” He basically spat , disgusted.

“Uhh..y/n ma’am.” You had answered, slowly , confused to where you were and who these people were,where were your parents?

“You should not speak to the prince of Mirkwood like that.” A ginger women , spoke sharply, You hate her already , you had thought.

“The prince of where? Who are you people? Where are my parents?” You asked desperately.

“We are not people , we are elves mortal, how would we know where they were you are the one trespassing.” The blond elf that looked like Orlando bloom ,spat.

“Hey will turner , you tell me , I woke up here , last thing I remember was being in a sinking ship.”

“You are weeks away from the sea, you are lying.”

“I am not , now tell me where I am.” You shouted angrily.

“We are taking to you to the king now.”

You were then dragged away to king thranduil.

Let’s just say Thranduil is a cold hearted man , you ended up in a cell. So that leads you to present time.

Did I mention you dressed up as captain jack sparrow for the ship ride. Well yeah you did.

You sit against the stone wall , with your hat over your eyes, leaning on the bridge of your nose. Sleeping, that’s all you could really do in here. That was until the lock of you cell was unlocked ; you heard steps of heavy boots walk into the cell. Then the cell was locked again. You lift up your hat , to see this muscular blond man , with long locks , and braids in his Moustache. He was cute.

It was strange he was Put In a cell with you, you had noticed that men and women were separated,when put in cells. For obvious reasons, you decided the reason why he was put with you was because you had dressed like male pirate. Still confused you, your shirt was a v cut low like jacks they could see that you weren’t male. You weren’t a over weight male dude with man tits.

God You hope he wasn’t a rapist or a serial killer.

“Hey” you spoke quietly to the blond man, as he sat from the wall across from you.

“Hi, “ he replies back, looking you o v er.

“ are you a Corsair?” He asks after viewing your clothing.

You had no idea what they hell that was,

“ what’s that?”

“ a sea raider, my lady.” Oh so he knew you was a woman, it’s not that hard.

“Oh you mean a pirate. No I am not, I don’t even know where I am. You don’t have to call me my lady, it’s just y/n” he scrunches his face up with confusion, not b hearing the term pirate before.

“Alright..y/n. You are in Mirkwood, the land of the elves. I am fili.” He spoke confidently.

“I thought elves were made up , but then I saw their ears. I have never heard of Mirkwood before.”

“Where are you from then, I thought everyone knew of elves.” He suspected you were from far away.

“Y/c (your county) “ you spoke to fili.

“I have never heard of that, where about is that in middle earth.”

It was strange you had never met this man , and you were telling him these things freely, what about stranger danger. Well he’s not a stranger because you know his name.

“Middle earth? What are you on about. It’s just earth.” You had never been this confused in your whole life.

You go on to explain how you had ended up in Mirkwood forest , and they had just thrown you into a cell. Fili was very confused be assured you that he knew someone a wizard that would be able to help you. He also called Thranduil a cocksucker. He told you about Thranduils hatred for dwarves and you asked how he knew and it turns he was one. But he was tall so you never thought anything before then, you just thought he was human. He had even told you that he was travelling with a company and his uncle thorin was going to reclaim his throne , from a dragon or something. Which they had a hobbit for bugling.

“ so those clothes aren’t something you would normally wear?” He questions you cocking his left eyebrow up.

“Oh no , if I wore these all the time people would question my sanity.”

“ ooh well I like them. “ he smiles at you.

“Thank you sir fili, I like your Moustache braids.”

“Thank you miss y/n. Lets hope we get out of here.” He grins again, looking at the door briefly.

“Wait you are taking me with you?”

“Did you think I would get out and leave you who was wrongfully imprisoned.” He laughs.

“Thank you, I see that you are kind man ,sorry dwarf. “ before you can say anything more fili’s dwarven friends shouts begin.

Fili gets up to look , he turns back to you smirking , holding out a hand for you to take which you do and he pulls you to you feet. He was a strong dude that was sure. The cell clicks to infer it is unlocked by a even shorter man , that must be the hobbit , Bilbo. You and Fili walk out the cell, the hobbit looks at you confused.

“Fili , who is this?” He questions.

“Iy/n, uh I am not a sailor.” You speak to the hobbit and a rather strong man that stood next to him , he looked majestic. That must be his uncle.

“Thorin we must take her with us, she isn’t from this world I am sure of it. Please.”

Thorin scoffs, “how can you trust her?” Before you can say anything Bilbo says we must leave now. While you had run down the stairs , a dark haired dwarf had caught up with me and fili , who had ahold of my hand all the way down the stairs.

“Who is the this lovely lady, brother?” Ah yes filis brother what a charmer.

“Y/ n” you spoke , as you approached the wine cellar. Bilbo forced us to go to the barrels and to get into them.

“I am kili, Fili’s brother, at your service.” He replies bowing and grabbing your free hand bringing it up to his lips, kissing it softly.

You mock jack sparrows bow , after he let go of your hand. You smirk. Fili pulls you with him to a barrel, “do you want to share, I fear that we be in danger out there , once we leave.” You nod at his question.

“Kili will you help her in?”

Fili gets into the barrel at the top of the row, and kili lifts you so you are able to slide in the barrel as well.

“Thank you kili.” You smile at the dwarf. He smiles at you , and gets in his own barrel.

Without barely any warning Bilbo tells everyone to hold tight , and suddenly you are all thrown into a river. The water soaks you , you lift your hat off putting it in the barrel safely. You look around to see the Orlando elf and his ginger bitch friend following you, as well as these creatures, Fili called orcs. They were ugly.

“Fili hold my legs.” (Sorry I put that in the kili one too.) he does as yo u stand in between Filis legs , somehow.

Looking at the elves you speak loudly ,

“Remember this as the day as the day you almost caught captain Jack sparrow.” You smirk , placing two fingers straight to your head , and farewelling the elves.

Only to your surprise you are soaked with water when an dead orc falls into the water. Soaking your shirt, making your shirt very see through, however you didn’t notice this. The guards had taken your jacket away. Douchebags.

You sit back down, in the barrel waiting for you reach land. Too bad you thought damn , my bra is visible bye the v line so I’ll wear no bra. Sad mistake.

“I guess the water thing is what I get for being cocky.” You laugh, as does fili wrapping his arm around you to secure you.

Let’s just say , Kili does get shot because Fili lifts you into the air so you could reach the lever , opening the gate. Haha fuck that orc, we are smart.

Quickly you all reach shore and get out of the barrels, walking onto the shore.

“Well that was fun.” You speak suddenly In your waist coat and hat in hand.

“Uh miss y/n..” spoke kili , his face red, looks away from you , trying not embarrass you.

“Yes...?” You are beyond confused at this point.

You see fili walking up to , removing his coat,putting the coat on your shoulders,Pulling it around your front and doing up the middle button. He whispers in your ear “your shirt was wet, and see through.”

You now were beet red looking at the dwarf, “oh god, did everyone see?”You mentally curse yourself.

“no just kili , the rest were too busy emptying their boots.” You sigh I reveal stil haunting thoughts, that these men had seen your assets , no one had other than family and that was when you was younger.

“Thank you.” You smile at the shorter man.

“You are welcome, not that I didn’t like what I saw.” He smirks at you.

“Oh .. do you want to trade by any chance?”

He laughs at you,if only you knew what he was going to be doing in his free time next.

(Boy city boyyyyyss)

“ pleaseeeee , has your left nipple ever bled before , mine has! I accidently scratched it and it hurt for days.” He was now shocked at your words.

“Really?”

“Yes my dude.”

In lesss than minutes you are on the barge with fili he has hold of your hand resurringly, maybe you don’t want to go home. The chances of your parents of being alive was slim, but you had a chance of a life here, if you wanted you could dress up as a jack anyday.

Unknowingly to you that wouldn’t be the last time fili would see your mellons. You sure in hell don’t let azog take him away from you. He was one good piece of treasure. Not all treasure is silver and gold,mate.

#fili imagine #fili x you #fili x reader #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit fili #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit x you

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bubble-tea-bunny · 5 years

Text

where the grass is greener

[sebastian x reader]

author’s note: just a quick thing i wrote over the last couple days, idk where the sudden inspo came from but enjoy <3

word count: 4,532

The twinkling lights of Zuzu City are the stars of some faraway galaxy, and Sebastian wishes he were an astronaut.

He’s yearning for the great beyond, and that’s the natural course of things, isn’t it? To look past the edges of the world within reach, and hope to one day explore the unknown, a search for life, for the future, for a place to call home. The rolling hills of the valley never seem more restrictive or suffocating than when he stands here, high on a cliff, elevated enough to view the bustling city. For a while now he has felt an urge deep in his gut to go there and experience a life so different from his own as it is currently, with the noise and the vastness. The mountains are walls keeping him contained and in the hours that bleed into days that bleed into weeks, he resolves that he’ll break past them when he’s older, and he’ll set course for his goal, for those glittering skyscrapers. What should he name his space shuttle?

Winters in Pelican Town are a special kind of cold, colder than normal due to the basin-like structure with the mountains on either side. The cold crawls in, settling at ground level, and the heat rises and seeps out. Pelican Town, sitting right in the middle, is forced to deal with the remaining chill.

This morning, the tip of Sebastian’s nose is flushed red from the harsh winter wind. His preference for not wearing scarves leaves him with nothing with which to shield the sensitive skin of his face. It may reasonably be believed, then, that this is cause to hasten his trek to the town center, but his decision to take the long way into town serves evidence to the contrary.

An old man had once owned the large farm to the west, but since his passing, the weeds have festered, and the few buildings on the property are in various states of disrepair. Sebastian walks by on occasion, observing the debris and decay. In winter, the weeds have rotted away and left the wide field barren save for rocks and stray logs. But by spring, they’d be back, and perhaps the new bursts of color from the trees still standing there will lessen the eyesore the steading has become.

Some nights Sebastian comes here to sit with himself and think because he knows he won’t be disturbed. No one comes this way anymore. He likes to sit on the edge of the porch and observe the expanse before him. The small house behind him has darkened windows, once illuminated with a soft yellow glow in the late hours. If Sebastian were to pull open the door (which would require some tools, given that it’s been boarded up, though acquiring them wouldn’t be an issue given his mom’s profession) and glance inside, there would only be cobwebs and silence.

The ponds on the property are frozen and snow clings to dead tree branches and Sebastian can see it all even without the aid of lights, for there are hardly any in this tiny town. Instead, the moon is the main source, a gentle white glow washing over the farm. Sebastian takes a long drag from his cigarette and exhales steadily. The cloud of smoke looks like a puff of air similarly breathed out in cold weather like this, except without the numbness he loves to find in the stick between his fingers. His brows furrow and he glances down, flicking off the ash. It lands on his jeans. Is he just tired all the time, or has he been carrying a pack of sleeping aids in his pocket?

Tired of this place… Sebastian huffs, is faintly amused, is exhausted.

Spring arrives and with it, another year bundled together with another bout of wishful thinking. Sam’s sitting by his desk, one leg crossed over the other and strumming lazily at his guitar. Sebastian sprawls out on the bed, staring at the ceiling and focusing on the sensation of the blood rushing to his head. They’ve been looking into securing a small gig in the city, nothing too big, but something to get their name out there. It stirs Sebastian’s thoughts of moving to Zuzu City permanently, and he loses himself in them as Sam experiments with riffs for the opening of their newest song.

A wrong note is plucked and Sam curses under his breath, then with a heavy sigh he sits up straight to stretch out his spine. During this momentary break, he seems to remember something, for once he relaxes, he grabs Sebastian’s attention.

“Hey, did you hear?”

Sebastian hums and he isn’t certain whether it’s meant to be a hum of question (Hear what?) or of half-hearted approval (That progression sounded good). Perhaps it’s neither, merely a signal to show he’s actually awake, listening for whatever Sam has to say.

“Someone’s moving onto the farm this week.”

Upon this revelation, Sebastian feels a mild irritation. He’d enjoyed having time to himself on that property. It offered an isolation he couldn’t get anywhere else in town, since he was basically the only person to bother passing through. The only ones to know about his late night visits to the abandoned farmstead are Sam and Abigail, but they don’t interrupt him when he’s there, understanding his need for space. Now, however, Sebastian would have to return to the train tracks.

“So the old man did have relatives after all,” he comments quietly.

The reason nothing had been done to the property is that no one in Pelican Town had the authority. After the previous owner’s death, the land had come into the possession of his family. The news had been passed along to said family a while ago, but there wasn’t a response, nor did anyone even come to appraise the farm with the intention of selling it. So there it remained, untouched for months, long enough that some grew skeptical that anyone would ever come to reclaim it.

Sam chuckles. “Guess so. But you have to wonder why now.”

“Yeah…”

If Zuzu City is a galaxy, you’re an asteroid drifting away from that system into the vacuum of space, floating aimlessly until you’re pulled into the orbit of another. And perhaps it is your aspirations and dreams of what you hope to find in this sleepy town that reside within the shooting star Sebastian sees pass overhead a few nights later, outshining the rest who hang in place.

Though if Sebastian’s honest, he has no idea what dreams might involve the valley and the town. It might be a great place for tourists to visit, sure, to bask in the quiet and the freshness, a temporary change of pace from the city. But for him, the quiet is too overbearing to stay here, and he wants to get away. He’d like to switch places with you. You, for some reason, have growing interest in the country life, and he has always had vested interest in the city life. A fair trade, right?

You’ve got quite the fixer-upper to take care of, that’s for certain. However, the sheer amount of work it will require to get the farmstead in an acceptable state doesn’t appear to deter you. You make many trips into town to buy supplies, and Sebastian has seen you when you stopped by his mom’s shop, the two of you working out blueprints for adding a new water well here or a chicken coop there.

The first time he spotted you had been in passing as he ascended the stairs from his room with the plan to get lunch from the kitchen (his first meal of the day). He heard the front door open and close and his mom’s friendly greeting, and he turned to see you walk right up to the counter she stood behind.

You didn’t look like someone from the city. He wouldn’t have guessed that you were if he hadn’t been told previously by Sam, who’d heard it from his mom, who’d heard it from Pierre. You wore a yellow t-shirt beneath light blue overalls (scuffs and dirt marks already marred the denim), the bottoms of which were rolled up neatly, and a pair of dirtied work boots. A red backpack sat on your shoulders and you had your hair pulled back into a messy ponytail.

He briefly listened to your conversation, and you sounded bubbly, excited as you shared your ideas for repairing the farm. And he still might not understand why you had the dreams you did of leaving the city and coming to Stardew Valley, but they’re yours, and you’re making them real, and he’d never fault anyone for that.

Day by day, new life is breathed into the steading you’ve come to call your own. The rocks and logs have been cleared out and you’ve set aside a small section to grow crops. There’s a fenced off area designated to be the site of a new chicken coop, with work beginning tomorrow. You even have a dog now, a stray Marnie came across and brought to your doorstep. Her name’s Daisy. She follows you into town sometimes.

Sebastian sees you often but hasn’t talked to you, other than a curt hello during your first meeting. The short of it is that he doesn’t have much interest in being your friend. He likes his small friend group, and when he isn’t hanging out with them, he’s perfectly content to be alone in his room. Maru brings up over dinner how nice you are, having stopped by the clinic earlier to drop off a basket of strawberries. Then she turns to him and mentions how he really should talk to you because You’ll like her, she’s sweet! But instead of convincing him, it does the opposite and only continues to dissuade him, and he merely sighs, shrugging noncommittally.

Sam and Abigail have taken a liking to you too. They wave you over on a Friday night at the saloon, and you join them in the game room. You excuse yourself from a conversation with Gus and walk over, but once you see Sebastian, you slow down, standing by the doorway. Grinning politely, you lift a hand to wave and give a quiet hello. Evidently you’ve been able to sense Sebastian’s disinterest in you, having kept a similar distance as he at any other time. But tonight, given Sam and Abigail’s invitation, such a distance would be impossible to maintain.

The two of them tell you to relax, and Abigail assures with a laugh Don’t worry, Sebastian doesn’t bite! and you chuckle good-naturedly but Sebastian can surmise you are nervous. For Sam and Abigail’s sakes, he will be a good sport and be friendly. He’s not so childish as to carry on as if you aren’t there. So with a smile, he grabs another pool stick for you.

“We can reset the game,” he informs you as you gently take the stick. “Sam was getting his ass kicked; I was expecting him to ask for a do-over soon anyway.”

“Wha—I was not!”

After that, Sebastian is considerably less averse to speaking with you if you happen to run into each other. He’s still curt, and never tries to carry on a conversation longer than the basic hello’s and how-are-you’s. You don’t push or pry either, to get him to open up, and he appreciates that. You understand he likes his space, and you let him have it.

Ultimately, it’s Sam who encourages him to get to know you better, and he won’t take no for an answer. She’s got plenty of stories to tell about the city, he remarks. I’m sure she’d be happy to share them if you asked.

Sebastian begrudgingly agrees to have an actual conversation with you the next time he’s able to, and he already knows he can’t lie and pretend that he has because you’re friends with Sam, and Sam will inevitably ask if you and he have talked lately. Though ironically, after this, Sebastian doesn’t see you a lot. The end of the season has you scrambling to harvest and ship the remaining crops, and your farm has grown quickly since you’ve been here, which means you’re out in the field most days.

It isn’t until the final day of summer that Sebastian gets the chance. The appearance of the moonlight jellies has everyone out on the beach this evening. Multiple lanterns have been placed on the water to provide better illumination, both for the purpose of viewing the jellyfish and to ensure no one accidentally slips off the edge of the docks. You’re one of the last to arrive, looking tired but satisfied as you speak with Elliott. You make your rounds saying hi and sheepishly brushing off comments on your diligence in preparing the farm for the next season.

Conversations die down to quiet murmurs as the ethereal glow of the jellyfish illuminates the water. Sebastian notices you in his peripherals coming to a stop a few feet away, sitting down and letting your feet dangle over the edge. He hesitates momentarily, but takes a deep breath, resolving himself to just do it, and, sticking his hands in his pockets, he walks towards you.

His boots thud quietly on the wood but if you notice, you don’t react. Not until he talks.

“No Daisy tonight?”

You blink and glance up to see him standing next to you, at a far enough distance that you don’t need to crane your head back painfully to meet his eyes. At his question, you smile lopsidedly and shake your head.

“No, she was too tired to come. She’s been working hard all day.” Usually Daisy accompanies you to the beach, running up and down the shore while you get comfortable on the docks, fishing rod and bag of bait in hand.

Sebastian smiles too, then points at the space to your left. “Mind if I join you?”

“Oh, of course!” You scoot over slightly as Sebastian sits down. The jellyfish are closer now.

“I was thinking of bringing her tomorrow,” you continue the original topic regarding your dog. “To take in that crisp fall air.” The humidity of summer had been fading this past week, leaving in its wake a colder, fresher breeze.

“I bet she’d really like that.” Sebastian might not have much to say, but what he does, he finds himself saying with ease. Perhaps it’s due to to the relief of tension now that he’s finally talked to you past a few courteous remarks, that he’s no longer anticipating the moment because it has already come to pass. And suddenly the prospect of talking to you more doesn’t seem so bad, despite his initial reservations.

“I hope so,” you respond quietly. You flash him a quick smile, then you both turn your attention on the ocean.

The approaching jellyfish are soundless, and with everyone silent, all that can be heard is the gentle lapping of the waves on the support beams of the docks. Spots of light move beneath the surface, the blurry forms of moonlight jellies venturing closer. They pass beneath your dangling feet and the lanterns on the water are poor competition for these creatures.

Sebastian feels you tap on his shoulder a couple of times to grab his attention, and he glances at you. But you draw his attention back to the jellyfish, pointing at one in the distance. Whereas most of the jellies are blue, as is their natural coloring, you’ve spotted a lone green jellyfish. Sebastian smiles and whispers you have a good eye. He’s not sure if anyone else has noticed, but he doesn’t bother to speak up, the silence so full of awe and wonder that he doesn’t want to break it.

The jellyfish congregate near the docks, as if to say goodbye, then slowly they drift back out to sea, and maybe the galaxy called Pelican Town has its own twinkling lights right here.

Green leaves fade to brown in the following days. They detach from the branches and float to the ground, and they’re the satisfying crunch beneath Sebastian’s shoes. The temperature has dropped quickly, and many townsfolk are bundling up to fend off the impending winter chill. The Stardew Valley fair comes and goes, and Sebastian doesn’t understand quite how to appraise the grange displays, but from the passing comments he overhears from Lewis, you put up an impressive arrangement for your first year. However, you don’t win, coming second to Pierre (it was close though).

Sebastian waits to the side as all the participants are given ribbons. You saunter over to him afterward, red ribbon in hand, and Sebastian pulls out his hands from the pocket of his hoodies to clap a few times. You smile shyly and rub the back of your neck, muttering a thanks.

“Hey, not bad for your first go of it,” he commends.

You shrug as you glance down at the ribbon. “I’ll win next year,” you resolve, and he doesn’t doubt it one bit.

The next event on everyone’s minds the second the sun sets on the valley fair is that of Spirit’s Eve. Sam, in particular, has begun to brainstorm costume ideas, first only for himself until he proposes a group costume—for him, Abigail, Sebastian, and you. He starts rattling off movies and games from which to draw inspiration, and Sebastian guesses he was meant to give his approval (or disapproval) for each idea, but Sam is listing them so quickly, excited as he is, that Sebastian hardly gets the opportunity to speak up. But he’s fine with simply listening.

“We really should have a costume contest,” Sam murmurs, voice low in a way that Sebastian isn’t sure if he’s talking to himself. “I wonder if I could ask the mayor to have one this year…”

Sebastian chuckles before he sits up and stands from Sam’s bed. He stretches his arms above his head and glances out the window: it’s completely dark out. The daylight is minimal this time of year, so this fact isn’t satisfactory evidence for the time of night. Rather, it’s the glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand that alerts Sebastian that it’s time to leave, for it’s growing late.

“I think I’m gonna head out,” he announces once Sam’s rambling has quieted down.

Sam nods and stands up as well to walk Sebastian to the front door, but pauses with his hand on the doorknob of his room as he twists around.

“You wouldn’t be taking the long way to your house, would you?”

Sebastian tilts his head. Walking past the farm? He hasn’t done that since you moved in. “I wasn’t planning to. Why?”

“Well it’s just my mom patched up one of [Name]’s shirts and asked if I could give it to her when I see her, but I figure if you’re going to pass by tonight…”

Sebastian nods. “Sure.”

With a smile, Sam picks up a folded long-sleeve from his desk and hands it to Sebastian. “Thanks, man.”

It feels strange to make his way towards the bus stop instead of the park on his way back. He hadn’t taken this route for almost a year, having never been one of the people to pay a visit to your farm. He’s not sure why he never did. Perhaps he didn’t want to be a bother. You’d always given him his space, and he figured it would only be right for him to do the same in return. Though unlike him, you never shy away from visitors, always glad to greet whoever comes over for a quick chat. So perhaps you won’t mind. Hopefully. The last thing he wants is to be in your way.

He’s unsure if you’ll even be awake at this time because you work a lot, and it leaves you exhausted. You don’t tend to stay up late. But as he approaches your farm, he not only spots the light shining through the windows, he sees you sitting on the edge of the porch, right where he has sat so many times prior.

He calls out your name to grab your attention and you look over, smiling when you see him.

“What’s up?" you ask as he comes closer, and your smile widens when he holds out your shirt. “Oh, Jodi’s fixed it! That was fast… I’ll have to bake her a cake to say thanks.” Then you turn to Sebastian and thank him for dropping it off.

But he’s not in a rush to leave, and he inquires what it is you’re doing staying out here so late. You shrug. Just basking in the quiet I guess… and taking it all in. You motion to the field, and Sebastian understands why you’re content to sit and observe the fruits of your labor. He hardly recognizes the expanse, so different from the way it was just a year ago. You’ve poured your love into it and it shows.

“You deserve to be proud of it.”

You smile and the lack of lights conceals the reddening of your cheeks at the compliment. Momentarily your eyes are downcast at the ground, but then they slide back up to observe Sebastian standing there. You take the thermos next to you and hold it out.

“Hot chocolate. Want some?”

He glances at the thermos but shakes his head no thanks, and you retract your hand. The nights are increasingly colder as winter nears, and even if he’s wearing a hoodie and jeans, you’re certain that he’s feeling the brunt of the weather. You speak up again.

“Okay. But it is cold and, well…” You grab the edge of the large, fluffy blanket around your shoulders and stretch out your arm to extend it. “There’s room for two.”

Sebastian catches on to your efforts to ensure he doesn’t freeze, and while he isn’t bothered to stand in the chill for a few minutes, he appreciates your gestures and agrees to this one, closing the gap between you in a several short steps and settling down on the porch. You drop the blanket around his shoulders as well, and both of you look out on the farmstead. In place of weeds and stray rocks are crops and pastures for the animals you’ve started raising. You’ve mentioned before they can be a handful given how many there are when there’s just one of you, but you’re happy to have them. And Daisy helps with the herding at the end of the day, so it could be worse!

The silence is comfortable, but Sebastian finally breaks it.

“Why’d you leave?”

You glance at him, confused as to what he’s referring to. He elaborates.

“The city.” He turns his eyes from the field to you. “What made you want to come to the valley? I mean… it’s so quiet, too quiet sometimes. I’ve always wanted to move to Zuzu City. I want to get away from here. But you did the exact opposite.”

This is the most he has ever opened up to you, and it surprises him how easily it slips out. But it’s too late to take back the words now, as they hang in the air between you, and his breath catches in his throat because, frankly, he’s embarrassed. He’s never this quick to share his feelings, his thoughts, his one wish to leave this sleepy town and not look back. And he’s worried what you’ll say, what you’ll think, of the candidness springing up from nowhere.

You don’t respond immediately, which fuels his concerns even more, but he realizes it’s the time spent putting your own words together carefully, as you smile gently, a reassurance that it’s okay to talk about these things. You’ll listen to whatever he has to say, and you’ll still be there even if he says nothing.

With a deep sigh, you face forward again to survey the farm. And you explain to Sebastian that you’d been in the city your whole life. Before your grandfather passed away, he left you a letter with explicit instructions only to open it when you grew tired of the hustle and bustle, of the fast pace of the city and the same thing day-in, day-out at your corporate job. I thought I could handle it, you muse, but I just cracked one day. One boring day… I can’t even remember if it was a Wednesday or a Friday because they all felt the same. You chuckle dryly.

Sebastian is watching you closely, patiently waiting for you to continue. You’ve followed his lead and opened up, and he has found himself intensely curious to discover more about you.

You take another deep breath, acutely aware of the crisp air that floods your lungs. “In the letter, he called the valley the place where he truly belonged. And I thought maybe it would be the same for me.” You stay quiet after this for several moments, both of you contemplating what you’ve said, but then you perk up and look at him. “Of course, if you want to go to Zuzu City, if you truly feel you’ll thrive there, then go. I’m not trying to dissuade you.”

It’s Sebastian’s turn to give you a smile of reassurance. He has taken no offense to the story you shared. He understands where you come from. People are different, have different desires and goals. But he’s not ready to turn the conversation on himself, still wanting to focus on you, if only for a minute or three longer.

“Is it the same for you?” he inquires quietly. “Do you feel this is where you truly belong?”

It’s a reasonable follow-up to your story, yet it still gives you pause and you mull it over. Even before you speak, Sebastian can already see the answer in the softening features of your face, as you stare at the field you have worked so hard to turn into something worthwhile. He’s not sure what you’re thinking, but he’d like to have penny for your thoughts because your eyes slide towards him now, and they are fond and your smile is soft and he wonders if it means anything.

“Yes,” you state finally. “I think it is.”

You watch each other, and the corner of Sebastian’s lips lifts in a small smile, unable to be contained after witnessing yours. His chest tightens and he wonders if all this—the town and the valley and him and you—if maybe it means everything. Because the air seems fresher and the moon seems brighter and he finds he doesn’t want to lift off in his space shuttle if it takes him farther away from you. So maybe he’ll stay on the ground just a little longer.

He drops his gaze to the thermos you hold. “I’ll take some of that hot chocolate if you’re still offering.”

You laugh and nod, twisting off the lid. “Yeah, here, hold on…”

The autumn evening is beautiful, and for once, the valley feels like home.

#stardew valley imagine #stardew valley sebastian imagine #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley sebastian x reader #stardew valley #bubble-tea-bunny #queue

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whirlybirdwhat · 4 years

Note

AU where Morgan reign of terror traumatizes Coby and he leaves with Luffy and Zoro instead of becoming a marine.

ANON I LOVE YOU YOU HAVE INSPIRED ME!!!! I don’t know how to make this a comprehensive story yet so have some headcanons about

~~REVOLUTIONARY COBY!!!~~~

Coby is disgusted by way marines are run

He has a “THIS ISNT JUSTICE” Revelation like in Marineford, but on a smaller scale. He sees how thin Zoro is, from being starved and crucified for saving a young, and how happy the people are now that Axe Hand is gone and is like - this isn’t the justice I wanted.

“I want to catch criminals, not harm innocent people.”

Coby starts thinking about his new companions and thinks Luffy’s rough and luffs feral, but he hasn’t hurt anyone. Axe Hand Morgan and his son have.

So Coby follows Luffy and Zoro into the great unknown.

He’s not entirely sure he wants to be a pirate however. Unlike everyone else he does have a moral compass.

“I don’t think I want to be a pirate.” He says after watching Zoro keep calling Luffy Captain.

“Then be a bounty hunter? Go after whomever you want” – Zoro, who does not give a shit about Coby’s internal crisis, but wants to support him.

⁃Coby: “Huh. Okay”

⁃Cue nights where cobys just thinking about his future as he drifts in the waves with Zoro and Luffy being dumb idiots together and just heading for their dreams

HE doesn’t know if he wants to be a bounty hunter, because how can he tell which bounties are for genuine crimes and which are for people the government wants to kill?

Potential other au lmao coby becomes a bounty hunter

⁃At orange town, he panics at Buggy and hides - he doesn’t know how to fight, but he does get the key from chouchou the dog. He’s helping, in his own way.

⁃Zoro sees this and is like “NO. You need to learn how to fight cmon we’ll teach you.” Like Luffy, he has an aversion to people who cant stand up for themselves, but he likes Coby so he’s gonna help.

⁃So Zoro and Luffy tag team each other and teach coby how to fight. He learns a weird mix of swordsman ship and punching that really don’t go together, but its better than what he had.

⁃In the meantime, Coby keeps on seeing all the places the marines dont reach and keeps losing his faith in the system. He starts wondering why the Marines are hailed as this awesome force when really a lot of the times they just abuse their power or do nothing to help people.

⁃At Syrup, he helps get Kaya to safety with Usopp, still unwilling to fight, but starting to regain his resolve to do something – to reclaim a dream thought lost.

⁃Coby’s disgusted at the Fullbuster guy on the Baratie and punches him.

⁃“YOUR FIRST CRIME!” Luffy says, cheerfully. The chefs applaud. Go Coby.

⁃Now, Coby isn’t advancing as fast in training, because one, luffy and zoro (and Sanji, eventually) aren’t Garp, and two, he doesn’t have that drive anymore. Why does he want to be a Marine who punishes justice?

⁃But when Arlong shows up Coby figures out his new dream. He knows what he is going to do.

⁃“I’m gonna take down the Marines - they can’t be this corrupt forever, and how many people are just innocent people? I want to give the world justice again!”

Luffy doesn’t really care about anybody else, innocent or not, unless his crew cares, but Coby cares. He’s not a pirate, but maybe if the law isn’t right, being free to do as he wish shouldn’t incriminate him?

⁃THEN the Strawhats run into Vivi and Chopper and suddenly there are more caring people like him, and more evidence that the system is corrupt which he already knows but how can he change it. He’s able to fight off some men now, and helps fight off some of Wapols men and the Whiskey Peak people, but that isn’t enough.

⁃All his friends have goals that seem impossible but they are so sure they alone are going to reach it, even without the crew there. Coby doesn’t feel like he can do the same.

⁃But hen theres alabasta - He’s stronger now, can through a punch, hes more lean with more muscle. He helps fight, and maybe it doesn’t do much, maybe the man (Luffy) who opened his eyes to the world is still there bleeding out, but he did something.

⁃And Ace and Robin have a hint for him, for his dream.

⁃(Who is this, Ace asks, referring to Coby. He has no role on the ship, but Luffy is proud to call him my friend, and say he wants to change the world for the better. To bring back what Justice really is. Ace cringes at the thoughhht of Garp but hums, and says theres a group of people who will do that – The Revolutionaries. Look for them, Ace says, and leaves. They will help you)

⁃(Robin, who knows all, tells him about Dragon unknown in the East Blue, his home, buth the most wanted man elsewhere. He has a plan, to take down the World Government, and perhaps Coby can find equal footing.)

⁃The Revolutionaries - Dragon, Luffy’s father.

⁃Coby has a goal now.

⁃He doesn’t want to say goodbye to the Strawhats, but he does, taking a boat lent to him by Vivi, and setting off to find the Revolutionaries. Pirates don’t care about fair fights and Justice, but Coby does, and the Revolutionaries do. His dream will grow there, but he will always be an honorary crew member of the Straw Hat Pirates (the first in some stories).

⁃At sea he runs into Helmeppo, whose drifting at sea stranded due to the marines, and helps him. They bond, and Helmeppo has done a little growth in character as well, and decides to follow Coby, much like Coby decided to follow Luffy.

⁃They run into Garp who is losing faith in the new generation and believes that maybe his son is right, gives them a few fists of training after asking about his grandson, and goes on his way.

⁃They save a town or two

⁃Coby punches several people in the face.

⁃Still no sign of the revolutionaries, but they have heard things from the grape vine that a pirate ship has fallen out of the sky into a navy base. Coby assumes at least Luffy is doing fine.

⁃Finally they run into - guess who – Sabo, on a information recovery mission, which Coby helps with. He questions them at first and learns their story.

⁃And knocks himself the fuck out when Coby says “Ace” “Luffy” and “Brothers”

⁃“OH SHIT THEY ARE GOING TO KILL ME” - sabo,after waking up, to a confused Coby and then profusely thanking him.

⁃Sabo agrees to let Coby and helmeppo into the Revolutionaries and trains them (wow Coby’s been trained by a lot of ppl at this point) if Coby helps him find Luffy and Ace.

⁃CUE WILD GOOSE CHASE WHICH ENTAILS COBY BECOMING THE HERO OF THE REVOLUTION just like Garp is the hero of the marines!! They just fight ppl but instead of in the name of becoming the pirate king, its for REVOLUTION and JUSTICE because Coby has a working moral compass.

⁃Coby develops new moves combining all that he’s been taught into a rather weird fighting style with a mix of weapons and martial arts. He gets a bounty, and it’s the worst day of his entire life and also the best. He can’t decide, Helmeppo Sabo and Koala (whom he met when Sabo had to explain why he wasn’t on his mission) laugh at him.

⁃Then Sabo runs into Ace, ands that reunion goes as well as you would expect, but that not the important thing, because its still not enough to not send Ace to Marineford. But they don’t know this. Yet.

⁃Sabo and Ace both get news about Ennies Lobby at the same time. Coby, when Luffy mentions knowing Coby to his visiting grandfather, receives a shudder down his spine as if he has narrowly avoided a horrible fate.

⁃But its whatever. Sabo contacts Dragon and plans to meet with him and Luffy at Sabaody, to keep an eye on the Supernovas and let Sabao and Coby see Luffy again.

⁃They never get a chance, as the Strawhat Pirates have disappeared by the time they arrive… and Ace is on the execution block.

⁃Sabo has to go save him and drags Coby along for the ride, who eagerly awaits the opportunity to THROW DOWN SOME MARINES

⁃Luffy still goes through Impel down and all that, but Sabo and Coby still arrive late to the battle.

⁃You know how Sabo saves Luffy and Ace in that one excerpt? Cue coby punching akainu in the face for trying to hurt his friends then dodging the hell outta there as sabo saves ace and luffy.

⁃He Learns his haki! Is like oh shit my crush is gonna die, better do some shit about that! The haki allows him to actually stop Akainu for a second, and stop the fighting, as he attempts to question the people – is this what justice is?

⁃Coby meets trafalagr law and also buggy again. He isn’t afraid anymore, and doesn’t hide. People are quietly proud.

⁃Luffy gets saved and ASL reunion happens.

⁃Luffy decides to train, and tries to get coby to come along with him.

⁃Coby Is just frustrated because he has a moral compass and Luffy is just here saying he’s now best friends with corrupt war lords and the pirate kings right hand man, who is a cool dude, but why luffy, coby is hurt, please stop punching people because you feel like it.

⁃(Coby’s just putting on appearances)

⁃HEs just a good boy who wants to tear down corrupt systems why do you make friends with criminals luffy why do you hurt coby like this

(Again, appearances, he’s not insane, thank you very much)

After leaving Luffy to train and after helping him due his oxbell thing, he leaves with sabo to FINALLY MEET DRAGON

He goes through his own two year training with helpmeppo who is along for the ride. Who Coby has now decided is stuck with him for life.

Training is hell, because Coby wants to find his own fighting style which means a lot of different stuff and seeing what works best and it HURTS

“Just be grateful im not my father-“ – dragon

Coby feels the shudder again

Yknow how The revs have that steam punk theme? Well

STEAMPUNK COBY!!!!  this is. so cool oh my gosh

Coby goes around freeing people and when they asked what inspired you hes like “rubber bastard who doesn’t have a moral compass fkdjsha,dk”

Hes gay for luffy he cant deny it

Luffy fanclub #1

Anyway, Coby goes on to take down Akainu and corrupt governments across the world, and makes his dream of tearing down the marines a reality post Pirate King Luffy

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